


welcome to new york

by spa_ghetto



Series: disappearing act [1]
Category: Julie and The Phantoms (TV)
Genre: Alex Mercer's Parents Are Homophobic (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex has issues, Angst with a Happy Ending, Anxiety, Anxiety Attacks, Being Lost, Boyfriends, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Ghosts, Grieving, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, M/M, Panic Attacks, Past Drug Use, Platonic Cuddling, Protective Alex (Julie and The Phantoms), Protective Luke Patterson (Julie and The Phantoms), Protective Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), alex and willie are the main characters, alex and willie make friends, alex gets a break from being the responsible one, alex learns the importance of pronouns, alex really misses his family, but it's an original character, but it's not a centerpoint, can't explain it without spoiling it, dealing with death, good for him, kind of character death?, mentioned in passing - Freeform, nyc is wild, the others come in later, they also make not-friends, they meet ghosts who talk about how they die at least once ok, warnings will be added at the beginning of chapters as needed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-27
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:15:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 33,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27613343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spa_ghetto/pseuds/spa_ghetto
Summary: Alex isn't supposed to be the impulsive one. Really, heoverthinksmost things. But first he sees his mom, and then he has a fight with his band, and then he spirals.Now, he's in New York City. With Willie.And they have no idea how to get home.
Relationships: Alex & Julie Molina, Alex & Julie Molina & Luke Patterson & Reggie, Alex & Luke Patterson & Reggie & Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex & Luke Patterson & Reggie (Julie and The Phantoms), Alex/Willie (Julie and The Phantoms), Julie Molina/Luke Patterson
Series: disappearing act [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2025485
Comments: 38
Kudos: 160





	1. prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, this is in the same universe as my other story "safeguard". you don't have to read that to know what's going on here, but it might help to understand some references better! :)

**ALEX**

“When I was alive, I always wanted to disappear.”

For a long moment, Alex thinks he’s the one who said that. The same was true for him once, too. He remembers side comments from his mother, insults from his father. He remembers being ignored when he came down for dinner once, complaining he was hungry, and saw the nearly empty pots and pans left on the stove, the dishwasher already running. He remembers how easy it would be to disappear—clearly, his parents wouldn’t have noticed. If not for his friends, who knows where he’d be?

 _Alive,_ he thinks suddenly. _For one._ He cracks a smile.

“Where did you want to go?” Alex asks. “Anywhere special?”

He can hear the smile in Willie’s voice when he answers: “I’ve always thought New York City would be cool.” Willie rolls onto his side, propping himself up on an elbow, smiling down at Alex. “Y’know, Broadway? Lady Liberty? The Empire State Building?”

Alex hums. “Yeah,” he agrees. “That would be cool.”

“I had this idea a few years ago: what if I actually went?”

Alex’s head rolls to the side. He frowns; there’s something in his stomach now—a bad feeling. “How would you get there?”

Willie shrugs. “We’re ghosts. We can go anywhere, especially now that I’ve got my soul back.”

“We?”

He grins at Alex, reaching for his hand. “Yeah,” he answers. His teeth catch the corner of his lower lip. “I think about that sometimes: you. Me. New York City. _Together.”_

Alex doesn’t know what to say. It would be fun, yes—an adventure that has his curiosity piqued—but he doesn’t know if he’s ready for that jump. He likes things how they are now: simple, comfortable, exploring new places together in a city he still calls home. Family close by if or when he needs them, and vise versa.

He chuckles, smiles, agrees because he likes the shine in Willie’s eye, and he doesn’t want it to go away. “Maybe one day,” he says, even if his One Day won’t be for another year or two or ten.

If Willie catches his lie, he doesn’t mention it. He dips his head, pressing a soft kiss to Alex’s forehead. “One day,” he agrees in a whisper, lips lingering in front of Alex’s eyes.

Alex’s fingers curl around Willie’s neck, and he pulls him into a passionate kiss. Arms snaked around him, Alex pushes closer, Willie dives deeper, and they’re lost in each other, waves softly crashing into the shoreline below.

~**~**~**~

A week later, they meet at the beach again. Willie is everything he isn’t: relaxed, simply contempt with watching the ocean from his perch atop a tower of rocks at the end of the beach. Alex is jealous. He’s also angry and hurt and completely _perturbed_ from the band practice he just stormed out of.

Willie smiles when he sees Alex. “Hey, Hotdog. What’s up?”

Alex stops next to him, hands shoved in his pockets. “I want to go.”

“Huh?”

“To New York.” Alex looks over his shoulder. Luke and Reggie will follow him soon—he can feel them coming like needles pricking his neck—and he doesn’t want them to follow him.

Willie climbs to his feet. “What, now?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “Are you okay?”

Alex chews on his lip. He doesn’t meet Willie’s eye.

“I just want to disappear for a little while.”

Willie doesn’t say anything. Alex is still relaying the argument when Willie’s fingers curl around his wrist and pull his hand free; Alex’s flinch is involuntary.

“Then let’s go to New York,” he breathes, squeezing Alex’s hand.

Just as he and Willie are poofing away, the needles dig into his skin. But then he blinks, and he’s thousands of miles away.


	2. prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, i had this *idea* about ghost teleportation: if that's really how they get around, what's stopping them from going anywhere in the country? in the world?
> 
> but then what happens when a baby ghost teleports away… and he doesn't have the energy to get home? hmm…

**ALEX**

Over the last forty-eight hours, Alex has only been able to think about two things: the fear of never being able to see his family again—which he didn’t think would be an issue, but when he and Willie first arrived in the city, they were drained completely of energy. Now two days have passed, and Alex can’t even summon his drumsticks from home—and the guilt from that last band practice. However, the longer they roam the city streets of New York, the more a third issue begins creeping in: Willie, and the spark in his eye that has only brightened since being here.

For the first time in two days, they don’t poof into Central Park. They’re standing at 7th Ave and 53rd Street, perhaps not far from the park itself, but being only a block away is enough to feel like you’re in a different world. Still, he can see it: the orange tree tops peeking over yellow taxis and red double-decker tour buses, a sight sandwiched between both aged and shiny new skyscrapers, and it’s enough to ground him in the otherwise foreign land that’s on the brink of being overwhelming. He already misses it and the uncertainty of what section they’d discover next—the first visit, they stumbled upon a castle; the next time, there was a _zoo._ Willie says there’s gotta be at least eight miles to it. Alex, for one, thinks they need to spend _more_ time there, immersed in the greenery, the sights, and the _calm_ and _security_ that the rest of Manhattan simply isn’t providing.

But Willie has a _list_ of places to go and things to see, so they don’t linger. They take a right onto 53rd, Willie dragging Alex along by his hand, looking back with a grin like nothing else matters. And maybe at that moment, when the streets are flooded with five o’clock traffic, the sidewalks are packed with tourists, and the city is alive and buzzing, even as the sun sinks beneath the skyline, it’s easy to think nothing truly does. Los Angeles is always this bustling, too. Just looking around, nothing feels different. This is just a daily ghost adventure with Willie, seeing what kind of trouble they can get into.

But then they reach _Broadway,_ and they’re flanked by monstrous billboards advertising shows he’s never heard of—except for one. They made a Broadway show about _Beetlejuice?_ —and the glow of the jumbotrons shine on them like a second sun that rises with the night, and suddenly, he remembers _where_ he is and _who_ he’s with and _not_ with. The anxiety creeps in again. He thinks of his family back home: Luke, Reggie, and Julie. Are they still angry, he wonders? Still upset by their fight? Have they begun looking for him? The guilt is back—he can’t believe he ever forgot about it—and he squeezes Willie’s hand subconsciously.

Willie pulls him off the sidewalk. They pass through a door that muffles the outside world, then another that silences it completely. Alex squints at his new surroundings: walls covered in shiny wallpaper, doors framed with gold columns, carpeted floors with gold and red designs, lifers dressed in formal wear, disappearing through four sets of double doors in front of Alex. Somewhere nearby, a pianist plays a song that weaves into aimless chatter like a faint buzz you don’t recognize until someone points it out.

“Hey,” Willie says, turning to Alex. “You okay?”

Alex shrugs. He lets go of Willie’s hand to shove his own in his jacket pockets. “Yeah, I guess. The same as I was yesterday.”

“We’re going to find a way home, okay?” Willie smiles, reaching out to cup Alex’s cheek. “I promise.” He sounds sincere. Maybe Alex was looking too far into his laidback behavior earlier. It’s been two days, yeah, but that’s two days in _New York City._ Willie’s always wanted to visit. Alex chews his lip, averting his gaze.

“I know,” he says, eventually looking back at him. He really can’t keep his eyes off of Willie for too long. “It’s just weird; this is the longest I’ve gone without talking to Luke and Reggie.”

Willie’s hand reaches for Alex’s. He smirks. “I think I know what’ll make you feel better.”

“Uh, another night out with rich people?” Alex raises an eyebrow, looking around. “Last time didn’t really go that great.”

Taking Alex’s hand, Willie leads him through the crowd. Passing through people feels like a sudden dip on a rollercoaster, so multiple at once? Alex holds on tight to Willie’s hand. On the other side, the soft chatter shifts into echoed conversations bouncing off the walls, merging into one voice that Alex has heard many times at concerts before. It’d be chilling if he could still feel goosebumps.

Willie grins at him. “Think we can make it backstage?”

Despite resting for two days—resting meaning refraining from poofing anywhere, of course. They really haven’t stopped moving since they reached the city, though—using his ghost powers still leaves him winded. When he stumbles into his landing, he thinks of Reggie when they first came back as ghosts. It took him a few tries to get the hang of poofing in; Alex bites back a smile.

Backstage is, perhaps, more stressful than the fear of being in a foreign place without his best friends. Dozens of people are rushing around, most with headsets on and shouting orders. They duck and dodge and spin around each other skillfully, like obstacle course training was included in the rehearsals.

In the midst of it all, someone stands out: a teenager around their age, black hair shaved into a buzzcut, sharp cheekbones, and black liner outlining narrowed eyes. He’s dressed in a pair of mustard trousers, a brown mock turtleneck, and brown loafers. Nobody rushing around particularly fits in with 2020 style—not when most are in Victorian dresses and suits—but this guy especially looks out of place.

“Willie?” Alex says, tugging on his hand. He looks away for two seconds to make sure he has Willie’s attention, and when he turns back, the mystery guy is _walking straight for them._ “Uh—”

“Well, don’t you two look out of place,” the guy says, looking them over.

Alex and Willie share a look. Alex asks, “Who are you?”

“Oh, so you _are_ dead.” He nods thoughtfully. “The name’s Reed. My pals and I haunt this joint, and every other theater on Broadway.” He shoves his hands in his pocket. “Where’d you two stumble in from?”

Willie answers, “L.A.”

“L.A., huh? Well, I was talking about your time period, but that’s groovy too.”

 _Groovy?_ Alex shares a look with Willie. _Sounds like my grandpa,_ he thinks. “Yeah so, uh, you’re from here?” He shifts his weight, eyeing Reed.

“Sure am; born and raised.” Behind him, a stagehand shouts commands at a makeup artist rushing by, warning her that they’re ten minutes from showtime. Reed rolls his eyes. “Let's go somewhere quieter.” He nods his head to the left before disappearing into thin air.

Willie and Alex share a look. Ghosts are weird, Alex has learned. Something lingers when they leave, like an invisible string pulling you in their direction. He’s always felt it with Luke and Reggie—that’s how he’s able to find them so easily, and vice versa. He thought that was just a Them Thing because they died together, but then he met Willie, and he realized they’re connected in the same way. Now, it’s just a Thing. A strange thing that Alex isn’t sure he likes or not.

They follow him to the backstage of another theater, this one nearly empty. Voices echo off the walls, short and snappy and not at all quiet. Spinning on his heel, Reed waves them over while he saunters onstage.

Rows of spotlights line the top and bottom of the largest stage he’s ever stood on. Most aren’t on, but the few that are blind him at first. He squints. Unexpected excitement jolts through him, just like playing onstage again for the first time since dying. Despite the lack of his band and the unfamiliarity of everything else, he can’t smother the thrill of being under a spotlight again.

“Look out below!” someone shouts suddenly.

Alex immediately looks up—a sandbag is plummeting toward the ground, right for Willie! Lurching forward, Alex grabs him by the shoulders and jerks him out of the way, just as the sandbag smacks against the floor, its rough landing reaching even the back house walls.

There are people watching, he knows, but he doesn’t notice them at first because he’s too busy staring at the sandbag that almost… It almost _hit_ Willie! Except Willie is already dead… And it probably would’ve fallen straight through him…

“Oh,” he says, chuckling under his breath. “We’re ghosts. That wouldn’t have… Oh.” That’s when he rnotices his arms around Willie’s shoulders, holding him close against his chest, protective and guarded. Alex releases Willie, and when Willie looks back at him, he avoids eye contact all together and runs a hand through his hair.

Willie chuckles. “Hey, I appreciate it anyways.” He pokes Alex’s side, earning a smile from him, even though Alex would rather disappear to a New York City alley than spend another second under the eyes of whoever these people are.

“So uh, who’re the lovesick puppies?” a girl asks, finally breaking the silence. She’s standing the furthest from Alex and easily at the shortest height. Her only rival is the person beside her, who seems to have her by a few inches. They look like siblings: same warm brown skin, round cheeks and piercing brown eyes. The girl who spoke has bright pink hair that cuts off at her shoulders. Her sibling’s style is simply black, much shorter than their sister’s, shaved on one side and longer on the other.

“They’re—” Reed stops next to her and looks over his shoulder. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your names.”

“I’m Alex. Hi.”

“Willie.” He smiles.

“Found ‘em at the Palace,” Reed explains. “Looking lost.”

“We didn't look—" Alex shakes his head. "So, um, we’re not going to talk about the random sandbag that would’ve killed us?”

The girl and her sibling speak at the same time: “We were making sure it’s durable—” “—doesn’t fall during a show.” They pause, side eyeing each other. The girl turns back to Alex and Willie, stepping forward and smiling.

“I’m Olivia.” She points over her shoulder. “That’s my sibling Andi.”

Andi waves. Alex waves back while Willie looks them over. After a moment, he points between him and Alex and says, “Hey. Our pronouns are he and him. What’re yours?’

That must be jargon from this current decade because Andi smiles while Alex frowns, and they answer, “They and them.”

Willie meets them halfway across the stage, offering his fist. “Alright, sweet.”

Andi chuckles, bumping their fist with his.

Olivia adds, “She and her for me. Where are you guys from?”

“Los Angeles,” Alex answers, stepping away from the curtains. He shoves his hands in his jacket pockets.

“Oh,” Andi says. “… What’re you doing here?”

“We wanted to visit—”

“But then we got stuck,” Alex finishes. “It’s been two days, and I still get tired when I teleport. Is that normal?” Looking between the ghosts nervously, he rocks on his heels.

Reed laughs out loud. “Of course you’re tired! You can’t just jump from one end of the country to the other and recover immediately. You guys are drained of energy.”

“So, how do we get it back?” Alex glances at Willie, but he misses the not-so-confused look on his face. “Do we… have to sleep? Or something?”

Olivia smiles. “Ghost don’t sleep.”

“You take it from lifers,” Andi adds.

As if on cue, voices echo across the stage. A door opens behind him, and when he turns, there are people streaming in from the back. They look different from the venue they just left: instead of formal wear, they have sweats and t-shirts, hair pulled back or covered in a beanie, sneakers instead of dress shoes. Alex points at them while looking at Olivia, Andi, and Reed expectantly.

Olivia grins. “Yeah, actually—” Her eyes are shining with something, but… Alex has a bad feeling about it.

“No,” Andi interrupts. They shake their head at their sister. “Come on, let’s just get out of here.” They grab Olivia’s hand. Olivia meets their gaze; secret messages float between them. Alex gets it. he and his sister used to be able to do that, too.

They’re gone in the blink of an eye. Reed glances at Willie and Alex, jerks his head to the right, as if telling them to follow, then he disappears as well.

“So, uh, are we following them?” Alex asks, turning to Willie.

“If you want to, I guess.”

“What’s up?”

Willie shrugs. “They’re just a little weird to me.”

“Well, how many _normal_ ghosts do you know?”

The way Willie raises an eyebrow answers the question immediately. Alex chews on his lip, corner of his mouth tipping up with a laugh. “You don’t have to answer that. I only know three ghosts, so. They seem normal to me.”

“I guess I understand if you’re comparing them to Luke and Reggie.”

“Oh, I’m _so_ telling them you think they’re weird.”

Willie laughs. “Julie would agree with me.”

“She would.”

The longer they linger, the more people pour onto the stage. It’s a cast from some show, he suspects. Are they still on Broadway? Another weird thing about ghost teleportation is the inconsistencies of distance. L.A. to New York felt like two steps. They could be in another state right now, and Alex wouldn’t know.

Willie reaches for his hand. “Let’s go,” he says, tugging Alex toward the edge of the stage. “It’s getting loud in here again."

Alex follows for two steps, but then he hears a laugh in the midst of chatter. It's really not that noticeable—he can't believe his ears picked it up over a loud guy in the corner—but once he catches it, it's impossible to let go of. Willie disappears, unaware that Alex is frozen to the ground.

Her voice floats through the air. It doesn't sound the same as it used to, but it's hers. He knows it, somehow. It's been twenty-five years, but she still snorts the same way when she tries catching her breath. He can picture her face: burning red, tears welling in her eyes, smacking whoever's next to her to stop making her laugh before she bursts. That always made him laugh harder.

He can't turn around. Emotionally, physically, he can't. He just saw his mom. Saw how she's doing twenty-five years later, how she's spending her Sundays with her new son, taking him to that stupid candle shop on the corner, buying him notebooks for his next semester. He doesn't think he can handle another family member so soon. Not Lainey, especially. He misses Lainey. He's always missed Lainey.

Willie looks back at him when he finally arrives on the sidewalk. "Hey," he says smiling, taking his hand in his. "What took you so long?"

Alex shrugs. "Where'd they go?"

"Think they said they're going to the park. I figured we could walk. Nice night, you know?"

Nodding, Alex gives him a smile that he hopes looks believable. He leans into Willie, squeezing his hand tighter as they start down the street. If Willie notices something is wrong, he doesn't mention it. Instead, he begins talking about the Christmas lights curling around the street posts. He tells Alex about how he's seen pictures of New York City around this time of year, and how he's always wanted to see it in person.

Alex keeps him close, curling an arm around his, intertwining their fingers. He focuses on Willie and his voice and the sparkling lights that Alex is almost positive his boyfriend loves more than him right now. He doesn't think about L.A. or his mom or his sister—really.

But between street corners, he thinks of Lainey. He imagines who she is now—did she ever cut her hair? Does she have any tattoos? Mom always said she'd disown her if she ever got tattoos. What's her life like? Is she dating? Married? What if she has kids?—and he realizes something.

Anxiety twisting in his soul—he'd surely be able to puke if at all possible—he makes a decision there, at the corner of 7th and 53rd: he won't leave the city without seeing her. A glimpse, at least. A peek into her life. He won't leave knowing she's here, _so close._

Which means, whether Willie likes them or not, he's going to have to get some help from their new friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi sorry, i needed to fulfill my alex—and maybe willie—angst needs with a whole book. feel free to join me if you like, but i do have one condition!: you have to tell me how you're enjoying it along the way :)
> 
> ps, you may have noticed this is part of a series! there's gonna be three stories to tell: the first is willex, the second is luke, reggie, and alex (mainly focused on reggie), and the third is for the lifers julie, flynn, nick, and carrie! so stick around! we're only just getting started!
> 
> pps, i have an updating schedule, but i have to be honest: while i do try staying true to it, life gets in the way, so don't be surprised if i'm a few days off sometimes. for now tho, i'll see you next friday! :)


	3. central park

** WILLIE **

“All ghosts have unfinished business,” Caleb told him once, in the early days of their relationship.

Willie nodded, sitting up straighter against the park bench. “Right,” he said. His eyes dragged across the sidewalk, locked on a group of skateboarders zipping past. “Something keeping us here. That makes sense. Once we figure it out, we can cross over.”

Caleb hummed in approval. “That’s the one thing we all have in common. But you should know, William, not every ghost you meet is looking to say their final goodbyes or cross something off their bucket list.”

“What do you mean?”   


Caleb leaned back, resting his ankle on his knee, watching the scene of lifers flutter around the city park. A mother chased her toddler around a jungle gym. Some kids played a game of soccer behind the playground. There was a line for an ice cream truck beside the swing set. From this perspective, the world felt simple and carefree. Willie could almost feel the Los Angeles heat—maybe if he concentrated hard enough. Caleb said there were tricks to being a ghost. Maybe he could finally feel warm again.

“Revenge,” he said finally, nearly startling Willie from his thoughts. “Those looking for revenge are the ones you have to watch out for.”

Willie chuckled. “How am I supposed to know what their unfinished business is? We all look like regular people.”

“It’s all in the eyes. They have this look about them—deranged and concentrating at the same time.” Caleb glanced at him. “You’re still new to this world, William. Don’t dive in head first and trust everyone you see.” His eyes flickered to Willie’s helmet. “You see where that got you last time.”

Eyebrows furrowing, Willie focused on the skateboarders again. He and Caleb relapsed into silence. Willie wasn’t sure he’d describe it as comfortable, but maybe this was how an outing with Caleb Covington always felt.

“Hey, Caleb?”

“Hm?”

“Can I ask what your unfinished business is?”

No answer at first. Caleb turned to him, locked dark eyes with darker eyes, and Willie saw the concentration. He saw the deranged, simmering under a layer of cool that had drawn Willie in in the first place. There would be chills across his arms if that was still possible.

“No,” he says simply.

In that moment, Willie was thankful to be  _ on _ Caleb’s side.

He never brought it up again.

  
  


Alex really loves this park, Willie thinks.

“I can’t believe I remember how to do this,” Alex mumbles, squinting at the band of interlocked flower stems he’s creating. He’s stretched out across the grass, head in Willie’s lap with a few piles of flowers between them. There’s an everlasting grin on his face, like he can actually feel the grass beneath his elbows and the gentle breeze sweeping over them.

Willie combs a hand through Alex’s hair, brushing his bangs out of his eyes as Alex adds a flower of a different color to the mix. “You learn it yourself?” he asks.

“My sister figured it out, actually. Probably in Girl Scouts or something. We skipped school once to go hiking in Griffith Park, and we made a ton of flower crowns.”

“You skipped school to make flower crowns?” Willie laughs out loud.

“Hey in a minute, when I finish yours and it looks beautiful, you’re going to be  _ thankful _ we did.”

Smiling fondly, fingers still raking through Alex’s hair, Willie tips his head against the tree and watches a few early risers walk past. There’s an elderly couple speed walking over a hill yard away. Two women jog across the field wearing matching green sweatshirts. A man, his young son, and his dog stroll by; Willie can hear them trying to decide what to have for breakfast. Above them, peeking over the skyscrapers, a morning sun casts a warm orange glow across the city.

There was a skate park near his house that he used to go to all the time. In the 80s, when Willie was still getting used to the afterlife, he and Caleb would visit that park. Well,  _ he _ would. Caleb often found him there. They’d chat; Willie always had a ton of questions.

He misses those days with Caleb sometimes, but he’d never admit that to anyone.

“Hey, Alex?” Willie asks, a thought occurring to him.

“Hm?”

Looking over, Willie almost doesn’t want to ask. Alex is relaxed for the first time in days, concentrating more on his evolving flower crown and less on how they’re stuck here… or whatever happened last night. He was acting weird last night—much quieter than usual, really didn’t talk the whole way back to the park. Willie didn’t ask then. Maybe he should’ve, but Alex has been stressed about this whole thing since a few hours after they arrived. He didn’t want to bring anything up then, but now…

“Did something happen last night?”  
Alex pauses, tipping his chin back to look up at him. He doesn’t keep secrets for very long, thankfully. Sometimes, he just needs some encouragement to talk about them. Willie’s fingers trace over his eyebrows, pushing his bangs back and meeting his eye. He offers a small smile for reassurance.

“I saw my sister last night.”

“Here?”

“At that theater. I think I did, I—I didn’t see her face. But it sounded like her.”

“You and your sister got along, right?”

“Yeah… I missed her the most when I left home.” Alex finishes curling the last flower around the band before sitting up. He turns to Willie, crossing his legs beneath him and setting his work to the side. “I also saw my mom, um… a few days ago.”

It’s like he said: Alex doesn’t keep secrets for very long.

“I’m guessing you  _ didn’t _ get along with her…”

Alex’s smile is spiteful and sad. Willie reaches for his hand.

“I saw her at this stupid candle shop by my house. We always went after church. It was dumb; that place doesn’t even smell good—a candle shop!” Willie snickers, and that’s enough to make Alex crack a smile too. “Anyways, um, I saw her there with this kid, teenager, whatever. He looked like her.”

“You… don’t have a brother, do you?” Alex doesn’t answer. Willie hums, intertwining their fingers. “I guess that’s not too weird, right? I mean, I think my parents had another kid after I died.”

“Yeah, no, you’re right. It’s not, it’s just…” Alex shakes his head. “No, it  _ is _ weird. To me. I feel kinda… replaced.” Willie opens his mouth to respond, but Alex continues quickly, “I know that doesn’t make any sense, I mean, it  _ has _ been twenty-five years. And I didn’t even talk to my parents the last few months. But, still…” He shakes his head, continuing to work on his crown.

“They’re still your parents, I get it.” Willie frowns. “But you’re not an impulsive person. Like, at all. Why were you in such a rush to get out of there?”

Alex chews his lip. He carefully twists two stems around each other, and Willie wonders what’s going on inside his head. Is he thinking about that day? Whatever happened before the beach? Is he going to talk about it any time soon, or will that require time as well?

“I got in a fight with Julie,” Alex finally admits quietly.

Willie’s eyebrows furrow. “Julie?”

Before Alex can continue, their new friends appear in front of them. Friends is a loose term, actually. They’re acquaintances until Willie can figure out why their vibe is off to him. He gives them a smile and nods in greeting.

“Hey,” Andi says, sitting next to Alex. They lean over his shoulder. “What’re you making?”

“A flower crown.”

“What? You know how to make those?”

“Yeah!” Alex glances at Willie, smiling. “My sister used to make them all the time.”

“You two are dorks,” Olivia says fondly, rolling her eyes. While Alex dives into the inner workings of flower crowns, she tells Willie, “So, the park’s got plenty of people if you guys want to get your ghost mojo back.”

“How do we do that, exactly?” Alex asks. “I thought it was all about focusing on things.”

“It is,” Reed confirms. “Unless you do something crazy, like teleporting across the country for the first time.”

“You take energy from lifers,” Olivia explains.

“What?” Alex frowns, looking between them and Willie. “What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘What do I mean’? Lifers are living, breathing people. Their souls are way stronger than ours. They have plenty of energy to spare.”

“It doesn’t hurt them,” Willie reassures. He knows he should butt in when Alex begins staring at them like they’ve just suggested stealing animals from a pet store. “Just… makes them tired.”

“That’s it?”

Willie shrugs. “That’s the worst I’ve seen.” He’s taken energy before. That’s one of the first things Caleb taught him to do in his afterlife. Caleb always enjoyed it more than Willie, though. Then again, Caleb has always fancied the lifers in general more than Willie.

“It’s easy,” Reed says.

“And it feels great,” Olivia adds eagerly.

That’s how they end up near the castle, eyeing obvious tourists milling around the park and taking pictures of everything.

“So,” Reed begins, turning to Willie and Alex, “you just need to walk up to someone, touch their arm, and focus on their energy. Imagine it entering you instead of them.”

A couple sits on a bench in front of the castle: two women. One, a brunette, eagerly tells her blonde friend about the new puppy she just adopted yesterday. Her energy is strong and vibrant; he can feel it from where he stands.

Olivia steps aside, gesturing him forward with her hands. Willie glances at Alex before walking over. The eyes on his back make him nervous, even though he’s done this before. It’s easy. But Alex had this  _ look _ on his face, and now Willie is wondering if this is such a good idea after all.

Then, an arm wraps around his, pulling him to a stop. “Wait, wait,” Alex says quickly. “Hold on. That’s…”

Willie looks up at him, bewildered. Confused, too; how did he get over here so fast? Damn those long legs.

“What?” Willie asks. “What’s up?”

“That  _ is _ Lainey.”

Lainey?

Alex is shocked to the core, frozen, staring with his eyes the size of golfballs. He’s surely stopped breathing… Or, well—you know what I mean.

Willie turns back to her: the blonde, he suspects. The woman whose hair is actually blonde to pastel purple ombré, covered by a black beanie, and who’s clad in a winter coat and gloves to match. When she smiles, he can see the resemblance. Their faces light up the same way, nose wrinkling, eyes shining just as bright. Did he mention she’s pretty, just like him?

“Lainey” Alex repeats breathlessly, like everything is just clicking for him. 

Looking past Alex’s shoulder, Willie catches Andi’s eye. They understand immediately, taking Reed and Olivia by the hand and pulling them away. Meanwhile, Alex moves closer.

“See you tonight!” Lainey calls as her friend is walking away. Alex stops in front of her, feet away. She doesn’t look up from his phone.

“I can’t believe I’m right here, and she can’t even see me,” he mumbles, shoving his hands in his pockets. But a second later, his hands are in front of him again, and he’s twisting a ring around his finger.

Willie lingers beside him, shifting his weight, unsure of what to do. It's been a long,  _ long _ time since he's cared for any lifers enough to want to talk to them. Julie was the first in years, but now she can see him, so the longing still isn't there.

"You could let her know you're here," Willie suggests.

Alex opens and closes his mouth. "Should I? I mean… Is that a good idea?"

Lainey reaches in her purse for her phone. "Hey," she answers, crossing her ankles. "Yeah, I'm in Central Park. Having lunch with Gina; she just left. Did she tell you about her new dog?"

Alex shakes his head. "I can't do this," he says, turning away from her. "I shouldn't. I don't want to mess up her life."

Willie frowns. "Alex, you could never."

Alex runs a hand through his hair. The muscles in his jaw clench, and he squeezes his eyes shut. "I miss her," he admits quietly.

"Then let's follow her." Willie takes his hand. "You can see how her life's going, what she does and everything." He offers him a smile. "Come on, that's the perks of being a ghost."

Alex sighs. He squeezes Willie's hand, moving closer until their arms are touching. When their eyes meet, Alex gives his own weak smile. "Okay," he agrees quietly.

“Hey, what’re you guys waiting for?” Olivia calls. She and the others walk over. 

“Uh yeah, change of plans,” Willie says. “Alex and I have something we need to do.”  
  
Alex nods. “Yeah, but we can catch up with you guys later.”

Reed raises an eyebrow. “What’s so important that you’re passing up this? Thought you wanted to get home and everything?”

“We do, but this is more important.”

“We’ll just meet up at the theater, okay?” Willie says. Behind them, Lainey tells whoever’s on the phone that she’s on her way. He hears her bag drag across the bench before there’s silence, and she’s walking away.

“Damn, we were going to check out the Statue of Liberty tonight. But if you guys don’t have the energy to make it up there, then…” Reed shares a look with Olivia.

“The Statue of Liberty?” Willie repeats eagerly. He’s always wanted to see that, ever since he saw pictures in a magazine when he was a kid! Whenever he dreamed of visiting New York City, the statue was always the first thing to come to mind.

He squeezes the hand locked in Alex’s hold, and he shakes his head, remembering again. “We can check it out some other time.”

“You can go with them, if you want,” Alex says quietly. “I’m just going to…” He points over his shoulder. “I can find my way back.”

Willie frowns. “Alex, no.”

“Or we can meet here later tonight?”

“Seriously?”

Alex shrugs. “I know you’ve been dying to see the Statue of Liberty. Uh, well—bad choice of words, but you know what I mean. And, maybe… Maybe seeing her again is something I need to do alone?” He looks over his shoulder. “And she’s kind of getting away, so…”

“Oh.” Willie hesitantly releases his hand. “Okay, um, if that’s what you want.”

“We’ll meet here later,” Alex repeats. “Nine. Eight? I don’t know, but tonight. Here.”

“Are you sure?” Alex doesn’t sound sure. He doesn’t look sure either, but then again, Alex second guesses a lot. He’s only ever completely certain when he’s with his band. With Willie, sometimes. But apparently, not now.

Willie doesn’t feel good about any of this.

Alex smiles. “Yeah. You don’t have to worry about me.” He nods at something behind Willie. “The castle. Tonight.”

With a sigh, Willie returns his smile. “Okay, Hotdog. See you tonight.” He stands on his tiptoes to kiss Alex’s cheek. “Be careful.”  
“You too.”

Alex looks behind him, searching for Lainey, and disappears a second later. 

Reed slings an arm around Willie’s shoulders. “To Lady Liberty!” he cries.

Willie follows, focusing only on the island and that stupid statue his kid self has wanted to see in person since forever. But he also thinks about Alex, a lot. He hopes he finds whatever he’s looking for in Lainey.

And the whole night, Willie counts the minutes until they reunite again.


	4. los angeles

**JULIE**

An update on Alex comes in the middle of a history test. 

Julie only has a few questions left. Beside her, Reggie sits slumped in a seat, staring at the whiteboard like he’s in a trance. She’s surprised he’s still around, honestly. He and the guys have been clingy with her ever since the Caleb Thing a few weeks ago—which is perfectly fine with her. Even though Nick is fine now and back in control of his body, she still thinks of him cornering her in the music room sometimes, and she feels better knowing her bandmates are nearby—but ever since Alex’s disappearance, they’ve both been restless. They’re usually on their feet, pacing and talking out their fears and worrying nonstop. If Reggie doesn’t want to leave her alone, that’s fine, but she expected him to at least be making laps around the room.

Luke appears in front of the white board. They both perk up, Reggie more than Julie when she remembers she’s in a classroom with a teacher stalking down the aisles, on the hunt for any cheaters. So she drops her chin to her palm, pretending to be thinking hard about this question, and watches him with bated breath.

He doesn’t have to speak; his face gives it away. Still no Alex. Reggie whispers under his breath, “Shit.”

Julie finishes her test in a hurry. Quickly, she packs her things away and jumps to her feet. Flynn’s a few seats ahead of her, looking back in surprise when Julie storms past. She drops the test off on the desk. Flynn catches her eye as she storms out, and a silent promise passes between them. Then, Julie disappears in the hall.

Reggie and Luke fall into step on either side of her. “I double checked everywhere,” Luke begins. “The beach, the museum, the pier. I even went to Bobby’s place.”

Julie shakes her head. “How can he just disappear?”

Three days have passed since they last saw Alex. He was panicked then, a chaotic mess of tears threatening to spill over, hands that trembled at his sides, and rude words she knows he didn’t mean. It was shocking at first to hear something like that come from him, and yeah, Julie was angry in the beginning, but that wasn’t Alex. At least, not the one she knows and loves. Whoever stormed into band practice that day was an ugly version of him, a side even Luke and Reggie have only seen a handful of times, something that he wouldn’t have unleashed if he could help it. So, Julie let it go. She doesn’t have enough energy to be angry and worried at the same time anyways.

“Maybe we need to expand our search,” Reggie suggests. “Think outside of places he knows. He could be  _ anywhere _ in L.A.”

“Yeah, and it’ll take us another three days to search the whole city.”

“Well, it’s better than nothing.”

“Okay,” Julie interrupts. She knows they’ve hit a dead end, but if arguing begins amongst themselves, then they’ll really fall apart. “Have you seen Willie around? Maybe he knows.”

“I haven’t, but…” Luke sighs. “Maybe third time’s the charm?”

Reggie shakes his head, shoving his hands in his pockets. “This isn’t like him. He’s been anxious before, yeah, but it’s never been this bad.”

Julie sighs. “I just wish we knew what happened.” She stops at her locker. Luke leans against the one next to it while Reggie lingers behind her. “Remember what he said at practice? About his mom? That might have something to do with it.”

“Oh shit, you think he saw his parents?” Reggie asks.

Julie frowns at him. “What’s wrong with his parents?”

Reggie’s sharing a look with Luke behind her back. Julie shuts her locker and turns to them with her arms crossed. This feels weird, just the three of them. She misses Alex standing in the middle, sheepish and apologetic about whatever secret they’ve been keeping from her. Her heart hurts thinking about him. Maybe she can use it as a fake illness to stay home and figure things out.

“Look,” Luke says quietly. “Alex’s parents weren’t cool with him being gay. Things have been off between them ever since.”

Now, the pain in her chest plummets to her stomach. She inhales sharply. “What did… What happened?”

Reggie eyes her. “They just… weren’t the same after.”

The bell rings. Students begin pouring into the hallway. Julie adjusts the strap on her back as she searches for Flynn, who no doubt will make a beeline as soon as she spots her. Luke and Reggie give each other another look, like they’re having their own silent conversation.

“You know,” Julie begins, catching their attention, “you guys don’t have to stick around all day. You can go look for Alex together, and we’ll meet up later at home.”

“We don’t want to leave you,” Reggie argues.

As the crowd grows and more people flutter past, Julie pulls her phone out of her pocket. Pressing it to her ear, she replies, “I’ll be fine. It’s been weeks since everything happened. Besides, school’s over in a few hours.” She shrugs. “Think I can make it.” They’re still hesitant, so she jokes, “Guys. There’s a distressed blond out there who needs your concern more than me.” She smiles in hopes that it’ll ease their nerves, at least a little bit. “Go. Find him.”

Luke sighs. He steps forward, pressing a quick kiss to Julie’s forehead. “See you after school,” he whispers.

Then they’re gone in a blink of an eye.

~**~**~**~

**REGGIE**

Reggie finally makes his way to the studio around six, when Ray shouts about homework up the stairs. He’s been using Carlos as a distraction since school ended, and lucky for him, Carlos knows about Reggie, so their time together isn’t one sided anymore. He told him about playing baseball at recess, how he hit a home run and impressed this pretty girl in his class named Jackie. They spent hours together, Carlos doing most of the talking like usual. Any other day, Reggie would be bummed Carlos can’t actually see him. Lately though, he’s relieved. He’d rather listen to him ramble about school crushes and exciting baseball games instead of questions about why Reggie looks so nervous and worried all the time.

He peeks into Julie’s room on his way out—she’s lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling with her phone on her chest, and Flynn’s voice fills the space. They’re talking about Nick, and something at lunch, but that’s not his business, so he teleports straight into the studio.

Luke’s writing in his notebook. “Hey,” Reggie says, walking over. He stops next to the couch, hands resting on his hips. “Luke. Spit that out.” He has a pick in his mouth, which is a totally normal thing he does, but accompanied by his nervous leg bouncing habit has Reggie worried he’s going to swallow it. Then again, would it actually happen? Ghosts can’t eat. Would it just… fall through him? Reggie’s both disgusted, and… intrigued.

Luke spits it on the table. Reggie’s nose wrinkles. “Ew. I didn’t mean actually spit it out.”

“Dude.” Luke picks it up. “Ghosts don’t have saliva. How weird is that?”

“I guess not very, considering we’re…” Reggie shakes his head. “No, shut up.  _ Alex.” _

Luke nods. “Yeah, right. Right.” He leans forward, tossing the closed notebook on the table.

“You know,” Reggie suggests, sitting next to him, “we haven’t seen Willie either. What if Caleb’s back?”

“Huh. I didn’t…” Luke shakes his head. “I didn’t think of that.”

“Seriously?”   


Luke plays with his rabbit’s foot. “What if…” He frowns, chewing on his lip. “Reggie, what if he crossed over?”

There’s silence between them. Heavy, suffocating silence.

“He didn’t,” Reggie declares.

“We don’t know that for sure.”

“We died together. Our unfinished business is together. That’s what Willie said.”

“He said _ maybe—” _

Reggie jumps to his feet, storming across the room with a hand raking through his hair. “He didn’t cross over, Luke! He wouldn’t do that without—not without saying goodbye first!”

Eyebrows drawn together with concern, Luke follows, reaching out to give Reggie’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We don’t know anything about the crossover,” he says quietly. “It could’ve happened without him realizing it.”

“Dude,  _ shut up.” _ Reggie shrugs his hand off and throws a glare. “Stop talking like that. You sound like you’ve given up on him already.” He turns to leave.

“I haven’t—Hey!” Luke catches his arm, yanking him back. He growls, “You know damn well I’d never give up on him. _ Ever. _ But it’s been _ three days. _ We’ve never gone that long without talking, even when we were alive. Things are  _ different, _ Reg. I’m just… We need to be prepared for anything, okay?”

Reggie swallows thickly. He holds Luke’s fierce gaze for a few moments before the fight leaves him completely. His shoulders slump, and Luke’s grip loosens.

“Dude,” Reggie whispers. “I’m scared.”

“Me too,” Luke admits. “How about we take a break, go hangout with Julie until she goes to bed, and then we can try again?” When Reggie begins to protest, Luke adds quickly, “I don’t know if ghosts can get tired or whatever from teleporting a lot, but let’s not find out now, when every jump counts, okay? Besides, I know we could all use a distraction.”

Reggie swallows thickly. “We’re gonna find him… right?”

“Yeah.” Luke nods firmly. “Of course we are.”

~**~**~**~

**ALEX**

Alex and his sister arrive at her apartment just as snow begins falling from the dark evening sky. It takes him by surprise when a flake lands on his cheek—feeling warm may be a harder task, but he can spot the difference between cold and freezing. He wipes it away quickly, shuddering under its touch. Another hits him in the eye, then the mouth. There isn’t a taste; snow has  _ never _ had a taste. At least he’s not missing out. 

Ahead, Lainey lingers in front of a stone staircase leading to a dark orange apartment. A gloved hand lingers on the rail, fingers curled in a loose commitment. She rocks on her heels, tipping her head back and opening her mouth. Someone walks by, arms wrapped around their thick winter coat, muttering angrily about the cold. They don’t pay each other any mind. Alex wonders how long Lainey has lived here. Could it be, not long enough to be affected by the New York winters, like that person? Or perhaps it’s been a few years, and the snow is still new and exciting. They’re from sunny Los Angeles—this is such a rare sight that it’s Alex’s first experience.

He smiles at her. This life is everything he remembers her wanting growing up: a spot on Broadway, and winter— _ she _ saw it at twelve for the first time on a trip with her friend’s family to Colorado. The week following her return was insufferable. If you don’t think it’s possible to talk about snow and mountains and skiing for seven days straight, you’re terribly mistaken.

Lainey’s apartment smells like an old radiator still burning the dust off from the months of unuse. It’s nostalgic; he remembers classrooms in the early December mornings, when the temperatures were just chilly enough to need something heavier than a jacket. Somehow, he always ended up either right next to or nearby the radiator in every class.

Her place isn’t as large as he’d expected. Really, it’s… It’s a studio apartment, probably. He can see her bed at the back, pushed against a wall with a fuzzy red rug next to it. The living room has a loveseat and two chairs sitting around a white coffee table and a TV on the wall. Another fuzzy rug covers most of the floor with dark brown. Paintings, fake plants, and Polaroid pictures of their friends and the city fill the walls. It might be the smallest living space he’s been in, but at least it’s homey.

An orange and white cat curls around her legs as she peels away her layers of clothing. Lainey smiles down at it. “Hi, Bagel. I’m home!”

Alex snorts. “Bagel?”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to stay out that long. Gina was telling me all about her new dog. Think she forgot she’s coming over to practice that dance number.”

He frowns, searching the apartment. Is she just… talking to herself? Or Bagel?

Then, someone laughs somewhere out of sight. It’s high pitched, almost taking him by surprise. A roommate, of course. Lainey’s always been a people-person; of course she’d be living with one or two people.

A woman pokes her head around a back corner. Her hair’s tied into a messy bun atop her head, loose brown curls falling down the back of her neck. She grins at Lainey. “She never stops talking, huh?” She steps into the open, two mugs full of hot chocolate in her hands. Unlike Lainey, dressed in a pretty blouse and nice shoes, this woman’s shirt hangs like it’s two sizes too big, her pajama pants have snowmen on them, and she’s wearing animal slippers. Alex smiles; she reminds him of Julie.

Lainey’s face lights up. “Is that champurrado?”

“You know it’s my comfort drink this time of year.”

“… Is it spiked?”

“No!” Her roommate laughs, smacking her arm. “… Not this time.”

Lainey smirks. “Just checking. Like you said, it  _ is _ your comfort drink.”

“Well, you have to set a good example for your call with Anthony—”

“Oh, shit! I forgot—What time is it?”

“Almost six.”

Lainey pushes past, clutching the cup close to her chest. She takes a seat at a desk next to her bed with a laptop on it. Not two seconds after she sits down, Bagel is in her lap, purring against her stomach.

“Is your family still coming in for your show?” Lainey’s roommate asks, crawling on the bed.

Alex frowns. How are…? They’re roommates, but—but there’s only one—?

Lainey stares at the blank computer screen. “Think so,” she replies, sighing.

“… Are we telling them?”

Lainey reaches for her hand. “It’s been a year. I already live on my own, literally on the other side of the country…”

Alex’s jaw drops. “No  _ fucking _ way.”

“So… No?”

“So… I don’t know.”

Her roommate (?) smiles gently. “It’s up to you, sweetheart. You know I’ll always be here. Me and Bagel and my spiked champurrado.”

Lainey laughs. They lean in, kissing passionately.

“Oh my god, you’re gay,” Alex says. “You’re gay! That’s awesome!”

And they—They’re still kissing.  _ Uh, _ he thinks, looking around. A small figure of the Statue of Liberty sits at the edge of her desk. As he moves to grab it, he thinks of Willie. He hopes it’s everything Willie wanted it to be, and that he’ll hear all about it later.

The statue falls innocently against the floor, but Lainey and her girlfriend jump apart. At the same time, her laptop begins to ring. The statue is forgotten immediately, though her girlfriend is still looking confused on the bed. After Lainey answers the video call, she reaches down to grab the statue.

“Weird,” she mumbles.

“That’s no way to greet your brother.”

Alex freezes.

Brother?

A guy around his age grins through the computer. He has curly blonde hair and a big nose and  _ brown _ eyes,  _ not _ blue like Alex and Lainey’s. And he has freckles—what kind of blond person has freckles, anyway? They make him look two years younger.

“Well, you are weird,” Lainey says, grinning. “But so are we.”

“Hi, Maya!” he calls.

Maya leans into frame. “Hey, Anthony! Comó estas, hm?”

“Oh,  _ muy _ bien. Mom and Dad are letting me skip the last two days before winter break.”

Lainey chuckles. “They’re so laid back with you. Alex and I skipped school once to hangout in Griffith Park, and we were grounded for two weeks.”

When his name slips from her mouth, he perks up. He hasn’t heard her speak to or about him in so long. Twenty-five years technically, but for him, almost two.

“Oh, I’m still grounded for a month if I try any other time. It’s just the _ holiday season,  _ you know.”

Even though nobody can see him, Alex feels out of place. He moves to lean against the wall, near the kitchen instead of the bedroom. Bagel follows, nuzzling against his leg and purring up at him.

“Bagel,” Maya calls. She holds a hand out, beckoning it over. When Bagel stays against his leg, she frowns. “What are you…” Maya walks over. Alex holds his breath. “What, you’re obsessed with the fridge now?” she mutters, scooping the cat in her arms. Before she leaves, May looks over Alex and the corner he’s hiding in. For a split second, he worries she can see him.

He holds his breath until she’s sitting next to Lainey again. Maybe this was a mistake. Lainey has a life now: an apartment, a job, a family away from Los Angeles. She has a brother again too; Lainey’s even the older sister this time.

There’s an analog clock on the wall that says 6:15. Maybe he can catch up with Willie and the others at the Statue of Liberty … Or, it might be more likely that they meet at the park at eight after Alex finally finds his way back; he forgets often that this isn’t home. He doesn’t know his way around. It’s odd that the fact slips his mind as much as it does—his family isn’t even with him. Luke, Reggie, and Julie, how could he ever forget?

Suddenly, something appears in his hands. His drumsticks! He summoned his drumsticks! Does that mean—?

He teleports to Times Square. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he stumbles into a wall. Okay, so he doesn’t have enough juice yet to get home. But he has his drumsticks, and that’s enough to make him feel less alone. Turning them over in his hands, his thumb drags across the ‘94 he carved into the ends one evening at the studio. The numbers are different on each side—Alex worked on one while Reggie did the other. Luke wanted to help, but Alex preferred the date to be legible—and he smiles at the memory.

Behind him stands a towering skyscraper with shiny, golden doors and yellow taxis lined on the front sidewalk. There’s a sign above the doors, bright red letters spelling out  _ Marriott _ with  _ Times Square Marquis _ in a smaller font beneath.

Clutching his drumsticks close to his chest, Alex takes a deep breath and teleports inside.

~**~**~**~   
  


** JULIE **

That evening, when she’s finished her homework and the guys have disappeared for another round of searching, Julie and Carlos make their way to the studio. She wants to practice or write songs, something to use as a distraction. Carlos tags along because he wants to talk to Luke and Reggie again, even if he knows they aren’t around right now (they have to come back sometime, right?)

As Julie takes a seat at the piano, something crashes to the ground. Carlos yells. Julie jumps to her feet. In front of the guitars is a single drumstick, rolling innocently until it bumps into the carpet. A few feet away, another lays by Reggie’s guitar. There’s something attached to it.

Julie all but lunges for them. She races for the attachment while Carlos grabs the other, asking in astonishment, “Where did these come from?”

“Alex,” she says, hopes with everything in her. She tears the note from the end carefully—it’s taped down by a few small pieces. Once the paper falls away, the ‘94 carving is revealed. Julie could cry. Really: tears well in her eyes at the mere sight of it.

With trembling fingers, she uncurls the note. It’s him—his handwriting, anyway, but it’s him! It’s Alex!

“What’s it say?” Carlos asks, standing on his tiptoes to peer over her hands.

“He’s—”

Luke and Reggie appear next, shoulders slumped over, disappointment heavy on their faces. “No luck,” Luke tells her shortly. “Dammit! Where is he?”

Reggie frowns. “Julie?”

Julie looks up at them, a tear slipping down her cheek. She grins. “He’s okay, guys.”

“He—” Luke turns to her quickly. “He is? Really? How do you know?”

She waves the note in the air. “He just sent us this. He’s in New York City! But, listen.” Julie frowns, rereading the note again before meeting their eyes.

“He’s with Willie, but… They need our help.”


	5. an old dance studio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: alex and andi talk about death some, just a casual conversation… as casual as it can be, i guess. i feel like talking about people's death in the ghost world is as normal as discussing someone's life in our world. or like a brief, nonchalant comment in passing? idk haha 
> 
> anyway it's not overly depressing or graphic or anything, but i just thought i'd put a warning ahead of time!

**ALEX**

When Alex summons his drumsticks only an hour after sending them away—he told himself he’d wait until the next morning to make sure his friends actually got the message, but then he beat Willie and the others to the park, and now he needs something to do with his hands—there’s a new note attached at one end. He almost doesn’t notice, already settling into a steady rhythm against the back of a bench. But then it crunches under his hand, and his heart flutters.

 _alex,_ it reads in Julie’s handwriting, _first of all, new york? seriously? you guys couldn’t have gone somewhere closer like seattle or las vegas? lol i’m kidding. we’re all extremely happy you’re okay. seriously... i think Luke & Reggie are slowly forgetting how to function without you o.o keep in touch, okay? we’re figuring out a way to get to you. _

_love, julie reggie & luke _

He rereads it two more times. Reggie and Luke’s names are in their own handwriting. While his thumb drags over the words, he imagines them crowded around the table in the studio, voicing ideas over what to write. Reggie probably could’ve filled a page on his own. Granted, if he’d had more room, Alex would’ve added more than a brief ‘I’m stuck in NYC with Willie but at least we’re okay’. There’s so much he wants to tell them. An apology would be first, of course, and once they forgive him, he’d dive into everything that they’ve seen so far: the ever-changing Central Park, _two_ actual Broadway stages, a giant Christmas behind an ice skating rink that Alex stumbled upon during his journey back to the park that night. He’d tell them about their new friends, maybe not the friendliest people in the beginning, but they’re all right. 

And his _sister,_ hell. He actually got to see what happened to his sister. Luke and Reggie won’t believe it; last time they saw her, she was this annoying fifteen year old who always bugged them because she had a crush on Reggie. She had braces and uneven hair, one side touching her shoulder and the other just barely as a result of a poorly done act of rebellion.

Smiling at the memory, Alex folds the note up and hides it away in his fanny pack. He keeps all of the important stuff in there, close to his heart and everything. Then, he starts on that beat on the bench again.

In the silence of the night, he hears a familiar sound of wheels rolling across pavement. It’s Willie—on his skateboard! Alex raises his eyebrows, hopping off the bench to meet him on the track.

“Dude, you got your skateboard back!” Alex says, a smile on his face.

“I tried summoning it when we got back to the mainland, and it worked!” Grinning, Willie brushes his hair back and sighs. “I boarded through _Times Square!_ It was sick. This place is _awesome.”_

“Yeah, and there’s a huge Christmas tree somewhere—” Alex waves a hand behind him— “back there. I don’t know where I was, but people were ice skating too.”

“Rockefeller Plaza. Reed was telling me about it. Dude, he has so many stories of this place. He was alive in the sixties so, you know, _a lot_ was going on.”

Alex looks around. “Where’d they go, anyways? Thought you all were together.”

“Dunno. I said I wanted to ride back, so I thought they’d beat me here.” Willie shrugs. He leans his skateboard against the bench and takes a seat. “How’d it go with your sister?”

Alex hides his hands in his pockets as he sits next to him. “Okay, I guess? It was weird. She has a girlfriend named Maya and a cat named Bagel.”

Willie nods. “Nice names.” 

Alex snickers. “She’s never been good at naming pets. When she was five, we got this brown puppy for Christmas. Guess what she named it?”

“… Brownie.” Alex nods, still grinning. “Hey, I’m pretty sure I knew a few dogs named Brownie, too. It’s an _iconic_ name.” Alex shakes his head as they share a laugh. Willie nudges his knee with his own. “Tell me more about her.”

“Uh, well… They live in a tiny apartment in Greenwich Village. Her girlfriend is Latina, and she likes drinking spiked hot chocolate sometimes.”

“Oh, she sounds like _fun.”_

“And Lainey video called this kid named Anthony. He’s the one I saw with my mom that day. He’s my brother… I guess? I don’t know how that works.”

Willie nods, watching him. “What do you think of him?”

Alex shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know! It’s weird. Pretty sure he lives in my old room. He seems nice, though. He’s just a kid. Our age, probably. It’s… I wish I had a better word other than weird.”

“So… Are you going to see Lainey again?”

“I don’t know,” Alex admits quietly.

Just as Willie reaches for his hand and offers a smile for comfort, the rest of their party appears beside them. Olivia has Andi’s wrist in her hand.

“Sorry we’re late,” she says. “Andi wandered off.”

“I could’ve found my way back,” Andi grumbles, ripping their hand free. “I’m not nine.”

Reed ignores them. “Hey, did you tell him about Lady Liberty? You should’ve seen it, Alex. The skyline was _beautiful_ tonight.”

“Oh no, I—”

“We hadn’t gotten to that part yet,” Willie answers, chuckling. He rubs his thumb across Alex’s knuckles. “But yeah, it was sick. We went up to the _torch—”_

“No one’s been up there since the _thirties,”_ Reed interrupts.

“Perks of being a ghost,” Olivia adds, sharing a smirk with Reed.

“I’ll take you up there, if you want,” Willie offers. “There aren’t any lifers around. It’s… quiet.”

Alex bites one corner of his lip while the other curls into a shy smile. “Yeah,” he agrees. Holding Willie’s gaze, he almost forgets there are other people around. “Sounds like fun.”

“How’d your night go, Alex?” Andi asks.

“Oh, you know…” He shrugs, then exclaims quickly, “Oh! I got something tonight, too.” He reveals a drumstick and twirls it between his fingers. “I used them to send a letter back to LA. Julie says she’s already working on a way to get us home.”

“Whoa, seriously? Damn, you guys work quick.”

“Who’s Julie?” Reed asks, looking between the two with a raised eyebrow.

“She’s a lifer who can make him,” Willie explains, pointing, “and the rest of their band visible when they play together.”

As expected, they’re shocked. Olivia and Andi turn to each other with big eyes and mouths hanging open. Reed hums in surprise.

But unexpectedly, Olivia admits, “That’s exactly how it happened with us!”

“Wait—” Willie begins.

“Huh?” Alex interrupts. “For real?”

“So, maybe you _were_ on to something with that theory,” Olivia tells Andi.

“Wait, wait, back up.” Willie waves a hand at them. “What do you mean it happened to you? How?”

“We met Reed four months ago in our uncle’s old dance studio,” Olivia answers. “They used to date in high school.”

“We were childhood friends, but things ended badly,” Reed explains. “The studio is on the same street as our apartment, and I died somewhere around there. I didn’t go back for a long time, but I guess I was feeling nostalgic one day. I interrupted their dance rehearsal.”

“You could see him?” Willie asks, raising his eyebrows.

Andi nods. “Yeah, it was weird. We could, but our family couldn’t.”

“And it gets weirder,” Olivia adds quickly, like she’s dishing gossip. “Just before our fall recital at school, my dance partner called in sick. I was supposed to go on by myself, and of course, I was super nervous. Reed offered to dance with me just for support, but then the whole crowd could see him too!”

Willie’s mouth fell open. “Do you know why?”

“Andi has a theory.”

“It’s… kind of crazy,” Andi warns. “Our mother always told us stories of these people from a forgotten society who could interact with the dead. This type of person is born with a brighter soul than normal; like a beacon, ghosts are drawn to them.”

“Mom’s been talking to ghosts since we were kids,” Olivia says. “Dad always thought she was crazy.”

“So, these people. They’re still around today?” Willie asks.

“I think so,” Andi admits. “Their descendants, at least. I remember a friend from my childhood that Dad always called imaginary because he couldn’t see them.”

“Okay, so how’d you make him visible?”

Olivia shrugs. “We still haven’t figured that one out. Maybe it’s because he had a connection to our family? Or we were both passionate about dance, so maybe our energies combined made him visible?”

“Do you know if any of Julie’s family has had experience with ghosts before?” Andi asks.

“Not really… She has this idea that her mom sent us to her somehow, but…” Alex shrugs.

“Maybe we could ask that lady at the Cotton Club near General Grant,” Reed suggests. “I met her when I first died. She’s kinda like an overseer of the ghost world in the city. Nothing happens in the afterlife that she doesn’t know about.”

Willie and Alex share a look. Alex breathes a laugh, shaking his head. “I think we’ve dealt with someone like that before. Hard pass.”

The soft flurry that’s been raining gently over the city is quickly turning into a downfall the longer they sit there. Willie shudders, pressing closer to Alex. “Can we go inside somewhere?”

Alex frowns, looking him over. “You’re cold?”

“Kind of?”

“Yeah, come on,” Andi says. “I know the perfect place.” They disappear, leaving Reed and Olivia with a look on their faces that makes Alex wonder if it’s actually the ‘perfect’ place.

Still, they follow close behind. Their feet hit a wood floor with a thud, but the room is silent. As soon as Willie isn’t in the snow anymore, he stops shivering. Alex looks him over, frowning. Willie catches his eye, and even though Alex can’t read his mind, but he feels like they’re thinking the same thing:

_Weird._

**~**~**~**~**

**JULIE**

“The one day Dad lets us skip school, and you’re going anyways?” Carlos whines as he follows her into the studio.

“Dad lets us skip a lot,” she argues. For special occasions, of course, and not consecutively, but still.

“But tradition!”

“I’m not planning to stay the whole day. I just need to talk to my friends.” Her backpack is laying at the edge of the couch next to Reggie, who’s playing with Julie’s old DS. Luke’s beside him, tuning his guitar. She shares a look with them as she grabs her bag.

“Okay grandma, did you forget FaceTime is a thing?”

Julie scoffs. “Don’t ‘grandma’ me. I have to talk to Nick. He’s going out of town with his family for the holidays, and…” She shifts her weight. “I just need to check on him _without_ his family around. Dad’s going to pick me up before sixth period.” As she passes, she ruffles his hair and laughs when he glares in return.

Reggie and Luke fall into step with her outside. “I’m with Carlos,” Reggie admits. “I would never willingly go to school if I didn’t have to.”

“Not even for one of your friends who’s still traumatized from being possessed by an evil ghost?”

Reggie pauses, thinking it over. “Depends on the friend.”

Luke reaches around Julie to shove him. Reggie pushes back, laughing.

“Besides, I need to ask Carrie if I can catch a ride to New York. She and her dad have been going every year around this time since we started high school.”

“They’re probably visiting family,” Luke suggests. “You want to intrude on that?”

“They don’t have family over there. At least, as far as I know.” Julie frowns. “I’ll be more subtle when I ask her. Are you guys coming with me?”

“I guessss,” Reggie whines. “If Carrie says no, then what?”

“Uh… Hitchhiking?”

Luke shakes his head. “My inner Alex says no.”

She chuckles. “We’ll figure it out, guys.”

The possibility of Carrie saying no crossed her mind the second she had the idea. She’s basically the only option, but Julie doesn’t want to tell them that. They’re getting Alex back, that much she’s already decided. One way or another.

**~**~**~**~**

Nick greets her with a smile. He takes a seat in the desk next to her. “Hey, Molina… and whoever is with her.”

Julie chuckles. “Luke and Reggie. We found Alex and Willie, by the way, but they’re a little hard to reach right now.” She shrugs. “We’re figuring it out.”

“Good. Hope they’re okay and everything.”

She watches him. “Are _you_ okay? You sounded kind of stressed at lunch yesterday.”

He shrugs. “I could be better, I guess. I’ve just felt… not right since everything happened. You know what I mean?”

She felt the guys’ eyes on her across the table. Avoiding them, tapping her fingers against the table, she admits, “Yeah. Kinda.”

“I’ve been having nightmares, too. Do you ever get any about it? I mean, not _it_ exactly, but just like…” He waves his hands vaguely. “I don’t know how to describe it.”

“Like an out of body experience?”

“Yeah!”

“Sometimes. Before I knew who Willie was, and before the guys knew what was going on with Caleb, he visited me a few times in my room to check on me. Sometimes, I have dreams where it’s not Willie, it’s Caleb.”

What she doesn’t mention is that Dream Her always runs out to the studio looking for the guys, but they’re not there. They crossed over, leaving her behind, all alone, with him.

“I’m afraid of having one of those dreams while I’m at my grandparents’,” Nick admits. “I don’t want them to ask, you know?”

Julie nods. “Yeah, I get it. Well, you know you can always call me. I won’t mind.”

Nick grins. “Thanks, Molina. I’m lucky to have you.”

In the hall, Luke grumbles next to her, “Crush is still there, I see. He knew I was there and _still_ flirted with you!”

Julie rolls her eyes. “That wasn’t flirting, dummy. That was a friend helping a friend.”

“Julie?” Reggie asks gently; his voice is almost swallowed by the hallway chatter. She and Luke look over when they reach her locker. “Are you okay?”

She raises an eyebrow. “Of course I am.”

“Just curious ‘cause he didn’t seem fine at all, and you were both… You know.”

“Oh, yeah, well…” Julie shrugs. “You guys know about the nightmares. They don’t happen as often as his. Not much else to say other than that.”

“You’ll tell us if something’s up, right?” Luke asks, eyeing her.

“Of course I will,” she says, putting her books away. When she closes her locker, they’re still watching her. Julie steps back, looking between them. “Guys, I’m okay. I promise.” Luke and Reggie share a look over her, which she ignores. “You guys should be worried about the final stop.” With a sigh, she turns toward the cafeteria doors. “Carrie.”

**~**~**~**~**

**ALEX**

They’ve been at the dance studio for most of the day doing nothing. Alex likes doing nothing sometimes. He likes the silences that are comfortable because he’s with his friends; it’s relaxing to lay back and stare at the ceiling and not have to worry about anything, even carrying a conversation.

Willie, apparently, is tired of nothing. He sits up with a “I wanna go ride”, and Alex lets him go without a fight.

“It’s snowing,” Andi says, peering out the window. “Might be hard to skate through.”

“Plus, it’s probably icy,” Alex adds.

Willie grins. “I know.” He’s way too excited about that.

“If you weren’t already a ghost, I’d be concerned about that look in your eye.”

“You wanna come with me?”

Alex hums, considering it. “Nah, I’ll stay. But be back soon.”

Willie kisses his cheek before disappearing. Alex’s gaze lingers on where he just was; he kinda misses him already.

“You missed a step,” Olivia criticizes. “It goes on, two three, _four—”_ She does a twirl and pops her hip out— “five, six.”

Reed shakes his head. “The twirl is before the arabesque. It goes into it, see?”

Alex leans toward Andi as they slide down the wall next to him and whispers, “What’re they practicing?”

Andi shrugs. “Some dance from a ballet studio they’ve been spying on.”

“Oh. Do you dance?”

“Yeah, but not anymore.” Andi shifts, tucking one foot under them. “I stopped when i died. They keep themselves entertained.”

“You didn’t like it or something?”

They shake their head. “I liked it, just not as passionately as them. They were ‘Broadway or Bust’. I always thought I fit in somewhere else.”

“Like where?”

“Art therapy.” Andi glances at him. “I learned about it in high school. I could help people through pictures and painting.” There’s a small smile on their face. “That was _my_ passion.”

“And then Death came a little too early, huh?”

“Damn him.”

Alex hugs his knees to his chest. “My friends and I were supposed to play the Orpheum back in L.A.. It was a sold out concert. We worked for months to get that gig, and hours before the show, we wound up at Death’s door.”

Andi frowns. “I’m sorry, Alex.”

He shrugs. “I think I’m over it—or, at least getting there. I try not to think about what could’ve been too much.”

“How did it happen?” they ask gently. “How’d you die?”

“Food poisoning. You?”

“Car crash.”

“Oh. Not to sound like a jerk, but that’s way cooler than my death.”

Andi laughs. “I don’t know about that. Guess it depends on how you look at it. The girl who killed us was the one from the park. Not the person you followed,” they add quickly when they see Alex’s face drop. “The other one. Gina.”

“How do you know?”

“She followed the ambulance to the hospital. When I died, I didn’t come here like Olivia did. I stayed there, and I saw her. Sometimes, I check in on her.”

“You’re not mad? I mean… She literally killed you.”

Andi shrugs. “I found out what happened later. It was an accident, of course. She was running late to an important audition for a show. She was stressed already, and we weren’t exactly on the sidewalk. It was raining, too. Reed wanted to dance in the rain.”

Alex watches them watch Olivia and Reed dance. Absently, they continue, “I guess if I had to blame someone, I could blame myself. I’d just told them I didn’t sign up for a summer workshop at the Palace Theater, and Olivia wasn’t happy. Reed tried telling me I just need to try something new to reignite my love for dance. I fought Olivia when they tried getting me to participate. We didn’t move in time.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s your fault,” Alex says. “There was so much going on that day. Blame the rain or whatever made Gina late.”

“It’s okay. I’ve accepted what’s happened.”

“How long has it been?”

“Two months.”

“It’s already been four for me. Since I came back,” he adds for clarification. “I died in ‘95.”

“I wish I could say I could tell from the socks, but that style’s actually coming back.”

“As it should.”

They share a laugh.

Andi stands. “Okay, I gotta go.”

“What? Where?”

They smile at him. “Why don’t you come along and find out?”

**~**~**~**~**

**CARRIE**

Carrie barely flinches when Julie drops her tray next to her. 

“Hey,” she says.

Carrie raises an eyebrow. “Why are you sitting here like we’re friends?”

“Because we _are_ friends? C’mon, we defeated evil together and everything.”

“That doesn’t warrant permission to _interact_ with me.”

Julie rolls her eyes. “Okay, I’m already regretting this,” she mutters, glancing to the side.

Carrie twirls a strand of blonde around her finger, suddenly aware of more eyes on her.

“Do you have family in New York?”

“No?”

“So those trips you take with your dad every year aren’t family related?”

She pauses, narrowing her eyes. “What do you want?”

“A ride to NYC?” Carrie scoffs, ready to protest, so Julie adds quickly, “Look, Alex is there. And Willie. They’re stuck with no way home, and we can’t afford to fly out there right now.”

“I assume the rest of your weird ghost band would come too?”

Julie frowns, glancing at the empty space next to her. “Uh… Yeah?”

“You know the source of his issues traces back to them, right?”

“To that night,” Julie defends immediately. _“Not_ them.”

“I don’t think it’s a good idea. Who knows what he’ll do when he’s stuck on a plane with them for eight hours.”

“I can lie! Say they’re not even on the plane!”

“These trips are _important,_ Julie. He has to be at his best. I won’t have his past coming back to haunt him… Literally.”

Julie sighs. “Carrie, _please._ Something happened before Alex left… He wasn’t in a good headspace, and now he’s in an unfamiliar city with no way home. He needs us.”

Carrie chews on her lip. It would, maybe, be nice to have someone to talk to while her dad is away during the day. She thinks back to middle school, when joining each other for family trips was normal. They always had so much fun; she almost smiles.

“Fine. But your ghost friends better keep to themselves.”

Julie beams. “Thanks, Carrie. That really means—”

“Yeah, bye.” Carrie waves her off. “The girls finally made it through the line.”

Smile tightening, Julie shakes her head. “Whatever.” 

Carrie watches her sit with Flynn a few tables over. They look at her before quickly turning away. Something’s funny, apparently; they laugh.

The rest of Dirty Candi take their seats around the table, still chatting about something from the lunch line. Carrie listens in, laughing when she’s supposed to and providing answers here and there. 

There’s a familiar ache in her heart that she ignores. Skillfully.

~**~**~**~

**ALEX**

“A street artist?” Alex asks, eyeing a person clad in black tagging the side of a grocery store.

Andi nods, practically bouncing on their heels with excitement. “Her name is _Roxy.”_

“A lifer, right?”

Roxy turns as they approach and smiles _at_ them. “Hey, Andi!”

Alex stops in his tracks. “A lifer who can see us?”

Andi chuckles. “You’re surprised even after knowing there are lifers who can see ghosts?”

“I’m still kinda shocked that Julie’s not the only one, yeah.”

Roxy is as tall as Alex, but that might be because of her sneaker wedges. Thick purple and green braids lay over one shoulder. He squints at her because, in the shadows, it almost looks like her skin color is uneven. Then she walks toward them, and okay, yeah—while most of her body has a radiant, dark tone, there are splotches of white in random places like down her neck, around her mouth, and over one eye.

She smirks. “Like what you see?”

Alex raises an eyebrow. “You’re pretty but, ah, not my type.”

Her eyes sweep over him. She nods, shrugs, and says, “Fair enough.”

“Roxy and I were friends before I died,” Andi explains. “Not as close as we are now, but then she became the only lifer who could see me.” They shrug.

“Do Olivia and Reed know about this?”

“No, and… I’m hoping I can trust you enough not to tell them.”

Turning his drumsticks in his sweatshirt pocket with uncertainty, he eyes them both. Roxy and Andi don’t see his hesitance, already turning back to whatever Roxy was working on. Why does Andi want to keep this from Olivia and Reed? Roxy’s a lifer who can talk to ghosts, just like them! They already have something in common—doesn’t that mean they should all be friends?

“Why don’t they know?”

“They wouldn’t understand.”

Alex is quiet for a moment, thinking it over. “I’m telling Willie.”

They throw a look over their shoulder. He cries, “I can’t keep secrets for very long! I have to tell _someone.”_

Andi huffs, shaking a canister of spray paint. “He can’t tell anyone.”

“Fine.” Alex walks over slowly, tipping his head back to

look at Roxy’s creation. It’s… An alien, maybe? A late Halloween project? Round face, narrow nose, big brown eyes spotted with green paint. Warm brown colored their skin, but half of the face was crumbling and missing pieces. Where their skin chipped away, something green resided in its place. Alex frowned, tilted his head to the side, and squinted.

“So,” he begins when silence falls over them. “Vandalism, huh?”

Roxy and Andi pause, looking back at him in unison. Roxy waves a brush dripping with green paint. “You can leave now,” she calls, shaking her head. “Don’t need a nark hanging around.”

“Alex,” Andi whines.

“What? That’s what this is! Does the grocery store know you’re doing it?”

Roxy sighs loudly. “No,” she says slowly, dropping her brush in a paint can and turning to him. “I quit working there a few months ago. Know why?” Alex shakes his head, watching her. “They made these _comments_ about how I looked. They always said I had to be an alien from another planet. So…” She shrugs, gesturing at her creation.

“Aren’t you worried they’re going to find out? You can get _arrested_ for this.”

“Yeah, um…” Andi rubs their neck sheepishly. “That’s where I come in.”

Roxy grins. “Can’t arrest a dead person.”

Andi matches her excitement. “They call me _The Ghost.”_

“So, everyone knows you’re dead, and they kind of just accept that you’re still the one tagging buildings?”

They share a look, shrugging. “Guess they don’t have any other choice.” Roxy laughs.

“It’s all Roxy’s idea,” Andi explains. “She comes up with the pictures and the places to tag. I just help.”

Alex hums. He steps back, viewing the picture in a different light. “I like it.”

Roxy snorts. “Thanks.”

Leaning against the wall, Alex watches them work in silence. An hour must pass of him standing back while they work. As the sun falls behind the buildings and the alley they’re standing in grows darker, Roxy grabs a light from inside her bag. As she sets it up, she mentions how they have to finish quickly. A bright light in a dark alley’s bound to draw attention eventually.

“Hey, Andi?” Alex calls, pushing off the wall. “I’m gonna go find Willie.”

“Kay.” They look back at him. “Remember: Olivia and Reed—”

“—can’t know, I got it.” Alex rocks on the balls of his feet, contemplating leaving this early. What if Roxy _does_ get arrested?

Andi glances back at him and gives him a small smile. “We’re fine. Go.”

Chewing on his lip, Alex poofs away.

_Better not hear something about this later._

**~**~**~**~**

**WILLIE**

As soon as he rolls onto the street corner, narrowly missing a light change behind him, he steps off his board. Feet away, Alex leans against the side of a building, one hand in his pocket and the other twirling his drumstick, watching the busy city life rush by. Willie smiles.

“I think you’re following me,” Willie jokes, nudging Alex with his elbow.

“Oh, hey.” Alex smiles innocently. “Funny running into you here.”

“What’s up?” They begin walking down the sidewalk.

"Andi has a secret lifer friend who can see ghosts." Alex glances at him sideways. "But you can't tell anyone."

Willie chuckles. "Who would I tell?"

"Olivia and Reed. Andi doesn't want them knowing. … And if Andi's friend ends up getting arrested later, we don't know _anything."_

Humming, Willie takes Alex's hand, intertwining their fingers. "Don't know anything about _what?"_

_"Exactly."_

Up ahead, a group of young women dressed in dated clothing walk into a building. Straight through a wall, Willie learns when they approach. There isn't a door anywhere near that end. They _kinda_ looked like the flappers Caleb had in his band, but that's probably not right. He shrugs it off.

"Did you see those people walk through that wall?" Alex asks, eyes wide.

"Mm-hm." Poking his tongue into his cheek, Willie smirks up at him. "Did you forget you and I aren't the only ghosts in the city?"

"It's an easy thing to look over when I'm with you."

"Cheesy." _But he loves it._

"I know." Alex chuckles, leaning over to press a kiss to his hair. "No, but really, I forget sometimes that other people can walk through walls, too. And did you see how they were dressed?" He side eyes Willie. "Kinda looked like… You know."

"Looked like _what?"_ a woman demands from behind.

Alex looks over his shoulder, frowning. Willie follows slowly. He's heard that voice before. Can't say exactly where, though. There's just a memory somewhere with her smooth, silvery voice. And he recognizes her appearance, too. Tall, broad in the shoulders, a narrow face painted with dark eyeshadow and bright red lipstick. Red, almost bronze hair pinned back into a bun atop her head, loose pieces framing her face. She sticks out like a sore thumb in the snow, literally: a silk red dress to match her lipstick hugs her curves and stops just above her ankles, showing off a pair of matching heels. When she walks, she struts, hips swaying with every step.

She cocks a perfect eyebrow. "Well? Just what were you boys going to say about my darling dancers?"

"Dancers?" Alex says quietly. "Uh, nothing!" He tugs on Willie's arm. "We were just saying how, uh, pretty they looked in their dresses."

"If you think they're pretty now, you should see them in action. They're quite talented behind the bar, too." Her eyes flicker between them, but they linger on Willie. She squints. "You look familiar. Hollywood Ghost Club?"

Alex tugs at his arm again, this time pulling him back a step or two. Willie frowns at her. "You're friends with Caleb, right?" _Why_ was he interested in someone related to Caleb? Especially when his boyfriend clearly wanted to _leave?_ He's not really sure.

She rolls her eyes. "If you use 'friends' loosely, then yes. We've crossed paths before. I'd say acquaintances, at most." She stops inches from them, giving her own frown. "Interesting," she whispers. Clicking her tongue, her frown shifts into a smile. "Why don't I buy you two a drink while we chat, hm?"

"We're seventeen," Alex answers flatly.

"Can't drink anyways," Willie answers, even though he knows better.

"Now, I know you know _that's_ not true."

Alex must've given up trying to pull Willie away, because now he's in front, blocking half of Willie with his shoulder. "We don't want anything to do with a New York style of Caleb Covington," he snaps. Willie's eyes flicker over at the cold tone. Okay, yeah, time to go. 

"Yeah," he agrees, looping his arm around Alex's. "Sorry. We have places to be." He pulls Alex away, and they walk off.

When they've almost reached the street corner, she appears again, pointing at Alex like she's just figured something out. "Julie and the Phantoms! Correct?"

They freeze. Willie swallows thickly. Why are ghosts like this so hard to get rid of?

"I'm guessing she's a shadow speaker, huh?"

"What does she have to do with anything?" Alex hisses.

They should've left, Willie realizes quickly. He should've listened to Alex and turned around and left. _Of course_ anything related to Caleb isn't good!

Her mouth twitches into a smile. "Let me buy you a drink."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i literally slept for 14 hrs. we travelled for half of the day yesterday, got home around one in the afternoon, and i worked on this for a few hours, and then i guess i slept from like 5 to 7 am today??? idk lol
> 
> sooooo the lady from the cotton club?? and willie's complete disregard of the trouble she could cause??? and andi & alex's friendship??? kinda digging it


	6. the cotton club

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: minor panic attack at the beginning of julie's section. it doesn't really go into detail because she's not the one having it, but it's referenced and implied.
> 
> also the cotton club, as mentioned below, is a speakeasy, so there's alcohol mention ahead. no underage drinking, though!

**ALEX**

He didn’t blame Willie for this. Not _completely._ _Maybe_ if they’d left immediately instead of waiting around, this lady wouldn’t have figured out who Alex was. Or, maybe she had that card already in her deck, waiting for the perfect moment to deal it. Alex is leaning toward the latter. If she really _is_ the NYC Caleb Covington—and her luxurious speakeasy certainly supports that claim—it’s not surprising for her to know things, especially when Julie’s dad’s video went ‘viral’ on ‘YouTube’ in, like, two days.

Still, he _did_ try leaving twice. And if he was with Reggie or Luke, he’d definitely throw a quick, knowing jab on their way through the club.

But he’s with Willie. Willie, who hasn’t spoken a word since they entered. Alex is kinda worried. Even at the Hollywood Ghost Club, even knowing how Caleb was, Willie still acted like everything was fine.

They’re in real trouble if they’re _both_ the Nervous One.

Her name is Darcy, by the way. _Darcy._ She said it just like that—drawn out, emphasized, like she herself was testing it out for the first time.

She waves leads them around green velvet couches and matching chairs seated around square tables. The center of the room is the liveliest with a circular bar and three women—some are the ones they saw outside—dancing around each other, creating drinks for their eager customers. At the back of the club sits a stage much smaller than Caleb’s. Or, maybe it’s the lack of lighting that makes it look tinier than it is. Nobody’s performing; nobody’s even making any moves to try. Alex frowns at it as they pass.

Darcy leads them to a quiet, secluded round table in a back corner. Willie slides in first, and as Alex is following, a woman clad in red saunters over. Even in the dim lighting, her dress practically glows against her dark skin. She smirks at Willie and Alex, the twinkle in her eye outlined by gold eyeliner, before turning to Darcy.

“Madam,” she greets, voice like honey. “The usual?”

Darcy smiles. “Please.” She glances at them. “And… Sangrias, for them.”

“We don’t drink,” Willie says after the waitress is gone, the first words he’s spoken in ten minutes. Alex looks at him.

She shrugs. “More for me, then.”

Alex holds his gaze on Willie for a few more seconds before glancing at Darcy. “What’s a shadowspeaker?”

“Jumping right in, are we?”

“Yeah, well…” Alex shifts his weight, playing with his hands under the table. “I don’t like powerhouse ghosts thinking they know something about my friends.”

She chuckles. A cigarette appears in between her fingers, already lit. After taking a huff, she says, “Wasn’t aware I’m a _powerhouse ghost._ What does that mean, exactly?”

“He means you’re more powerful than others,” Willie explains. “At least, that’s what we’ve heard.”

While she contemplates that response, their drinks arrive. Alex and Willie’s are dark red, oranges and berries mixed with ice, and topped with a sliced lime. Looks good, admittedly. It doesn’t compare to Darcy’s, though. Hers is on _fire:_ a shot glass layered to a rainbow theme with a strong flame dancing on top.

After watching it burn for a second, she blows it out. “Ronnie is too good at her job,” she mumbles, shaking her head. “Thank God she works for me.” After taking a quick sip, she says, “I wouldn’t say I’m a powerhouse ghost. This is certainly no Hollywood Ghost Club—I don’t have a stock supply of souls in a secret back room, and there aren’t lifers milling about.”

Willie raises an eyebrow. “You really expect us to believe you don’t collect souls?”

“Well.” She takes a long drag of her cigarette. “There’s a free trial. I give them two chances to decide if they’d like to belong for eternity. Usually, the decision is easy.”

“A free trial—” Alex begins, unsure whether he wants to laugh or scoff at the idea.

“Better than stamping everyone who walks through the door and _forcing_ them here. Speakeasies work because people have a choice: to join the fun and keep the secret, or to ruin it for everyone. I don’t want anybody here who’s going to ruin the fun.”

Willie looks around the club. “Do you have something against men?”

She chuckles. “Not particularly, but we all have our preferences. Speaking of women, you wanted to know about your lifer friend, didn’t you?” She smiles, swishing her drink around its cup. “Julie. Right?” Immediately after, she downs the shot.

Alex and Willie share a quick look. Sitting up straighter, Willie rests an elbow on the table with an answer, “You were going to tell us what a shadow speaker is… and why you think she is one.”

She eyes them. “How well do you two know this girl?”

“What?” Alex bristles. “Better than _you—”_

“She saved us,” Willie answers softly. “She saved both us and his bandmates from Caleb.” He gives a small smile. “She’s like family.”

“She _is_ family,” Alex corrects quickly. Hesitantly; he still doesn’t know who this woman is or what she wants. What if it’s another Caleb situation? What if she’s going to go after Julie next?

For a long, chilling moment, Darcy stares. Her face is unreadable, and the way her eyes dart between Alex and Willie almost makes him squirm. Under the table, his hands curl into tight fists. The longer they sit, unspeaking, the harder it is to breathe.

“Shadowspeakers,” she says, finally, “are people born with a connection to our world. Once upon a time, there was a society of these people. An entire culture that’s now gone extinct. I think there are a few tribes in the south still. None past the Mississippi River that I’m aware of, though.”

“What makes you think she’s one of them?” Alex demands.

“Shadowspeakers are the only true Lifers who can interact with ghosts, but their souls are picky, to put it simply. They subconsciously decide who they want to see and who they want to ignore. In the days of their prime, to be chosen by shadowspeakers as a ghost meant eternal salvation or…” She waves her hand nonchalantly. “Something of the sort. Although I think they were a bit full of themselves, the overall idea is true: to be seen by a shadowspeaker is a marvelous feat. And, no—I can see those looks on your faces—I don’t know why or how some ghosts are chosen and some aren’t. There might be a science there, but even I can’t understand.”

While Alex is still processing that—Julie’s soul _chose_ to see them? What?—Darcy turns her attention to Willie. “You know, there are a few of us… powerhouse ghosts around the country. Rumors spread easily. Am I to assume that this Julie girl is the one who sent Caleb packing?”

“There are more of you?” Alex asks.

She smirks. “Of course there are. You don’t really think we’d let America’s greatest cities go unclaimed? By the way, if you ever find yourselves in New Orleans… steer clear of Oswald.”

 _Oswald._ There’s a name he [probably] won’t forget anytime soon.

“Um,” Willie begins, glancing at Alex. “Yeah, I guess you can assume that.”

Darcy grins. “Oh, how that _delights_ me.”

Ronnie, the waitress from earlier, makes her way back over with a new drink in her hand. “Daisy tried making Flower Power again,” she says, sliding the glass across the table. “I think she finally made it hers.”

Flower Power looks like a dusty yellow margarita with sugar coated edges and a daisy stem wrapped tightly around the base. Looking it over, Darcy hums in approval.

“Looks beautiful,” she says. “Doesn’t it, boys?”

“Um—”

“Sure,” Willie interrupts, smiling politely.

“I know where I can find a sick crown to match that,” Alex jokes.

To his surprise, Darcy’s smile at him almost feels… genuine.

"Do me a favor," she requests softly, trapping him with her eyes. "When you see Julie again, tell her about this. Tell her everything." Darcy reaches for her drink. "And then bring her over, so I can meet her."

"No," he answers immediately.

She rolls her eyes. "You can come too. Both of you can. Hell, even bring along the rest of your bandmates, I don't care. I'm not looking to _ambush_ her."

"Then what do you want?" Willie asks carefully.

"I want to meet the girl who sent Caleb Covington into hiding." After taking a sip of her drink, Darcy pauses. She squints at the cup, like something isn't right. Alex wonders, is there an original version? Or, _was_ there? Maybe someone left, or is this another place with the only real way out is to crossover?

"Plus, I feel like she could make a mean Flower Power." 

**~**~**~**~**

  
  


**JULIE**

That day Alex came whirling into the studio, cheeks streaked with tears, one choked breath away from crumbling right in front of her—she can’t get it out of her head.

She was his first line of defense. His only, actually. Luke was out, probably didn’t know she was home from school yet; she remembered leaving Reggie with Carlos; they were talking about baseball. Maybe, if she’d known they weren’t going to come to the rescue this time, she would’ve tried harder.

He didn’t notice her at first. Not until she called a cautious “Alex?” across the room. That’s when he swore, not like she scared him, but almost like he didn’t want her to be there. At the time, she didn’t think of the possibility. She pushed her laptop to the side and jumped to her feet, rushing over. “Alex, hey, what happened? What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, moving away. “Nothing.”

She frowned. “Well, I know it’s not _nothing.”_

“I—I just—” He sniffed, wiping the tears away with the heels of his hands. Before trying to answer again, he inhaled deeply. “I saw my mom. Just now. I saw—Fuck.”

Here’s the thing—she’d never seen him like this. Or anyone, actually. Tears? Small panic from middle school Carrie when her dad had to rush away suddenly to go to ‘therapy’? Sure, yeah, she could handle that stuff. But a ghost whose words were lodged in his throat because he forgot he doesn’t actually _need_ to breathe? Who moved away every time he tried getting close? She would’ve run inside to find Reggie if she wasn’t worried what he’d do when left by himself.

“Your mom,” she repeated quietly. “Okay. What happened? Was your relationship with her… okay?” She hoped things with his mom were better than with Luke’s. But if it wasn’t, she could deal with that. She just… had to get him to calm down first.

“I’m fine, Julie,” he mumbled, shaking his head as he headed for the door. “I just need some air.”

“Hey, whoa—” She caught his arm, yanking him back. “How about sticking around for a little while? At least until you calm down. Doesn’t look like the outside world’s done much good for you today, anyways.” She chuckled, hoping to ease the tension. He didn’t even crack a smile.

“You wouldn’t get it, Jules.”

“I can try.”

“No, sorry, this isn’t another tragic backstory you can butt into and fix with a song.”

Hand falling away from his arm, she jerked like he’d slapped her. “Excuse me?”

Alex wasn’t looking at her. “Tell Luke and Reggie I’m out. If they ask.”

“No, no, no, you don’t get to just _leave.”_ She raced in front of him, throwing her arms out as if that could actually stop him. “I get you’re upset, but that doesn’t mean you get to be rude.”

“I just—” Alex groaned, pulling at his hair. “I can’t—right now, I—”

At that moment, to her relief, Reggie walked through the door beside her.

He paused mid-step. “Alex?”

Alex either didn’t hear or chose to ignore him. Eyes puffy and red from crying, he snapped at Julie, “Just leave me alone. I don’t want your help.”

Reggie frowned. “Dude, what’s with you?”

Without answering, Alex disappeared. Julie stared at the spot he once stood, replaying their conversation.

“Julie, what—?”

She shook her head, dragging herself back to the couch. “Don’t know,” she mumbled, grabbing her computer. “And I don’t care.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Julie?”

Luke and Reggie stand in the doorway. Luke has Julie’s bag she packed for the weekend slung over his shoulder. That’s right, she’s supposed to be leaving for the airport soon. In one hand is her phone, half of a text message composed to Flynn, talking about how weird this trip is about to be. Alex’s note is tight in her grip.

Reggie pulls the barn door shut behind him while Luke walks over, quietly dropping her bag next to the couch. She leans into him when he sits down, immediately relaxing against his chest while he runs his fingers up and down her arm. Reggie sits beside her, gently taking the note from her hand.

“I feel like I should’ve done more,” she tells the silence. “He wasn’t acting like himself, and… and I was the bad friend that let him leave like that.”

Reggie huffs. “If you want to play _that_ game, I let him leave, too. And _I_ know how he gets.”

“He’s sensitive,” Luke says for both of their sakes. “And probably the most vulnerable when something sets him off like that.”

“But I wasn’t judging him for it,” Julie argues. “I was just trying to help.”

“I know.” She can hear a smile in his soft voice. “Trust me, we’ve had our fair share of arguments with him too. Usually, he’s an open book. And if he’d stuck around the city long enough, he would’ve come back in an hour or two, ready to talk.”

“Once in a while, though,” Reggie continues, sighing, “something bad sends him into a frenzy like that. Last time it happened, he came out to his parents.”

“I can’t wait to see him again.”

Luke chuckles. “Yeah, me too.”

“Hopefully they haven’t gotten into any trouble.” Reggie gives a mock stern look. “I think that Willie kid is a bad influence on him.”

Their laughter instantly loosens them up. Julie jumps to her feet, grabbing her bag and heading for the door. A soft hand tugs her back, and Reggie passes, whistling as he disappears outside, unaware of the two who have fallen behind.

Luke hugs her from behind. “I can’t _believe_ we’re about to spend six hours together, and I won’t be able to even hold your hand,” he grumbles in her ear. Warm lips press to her cheek.

She turns, grinning up at him. “It’ll be quick.”

“Ugh, easy for you to say. _You_ can sleep.”

“You can probably sleep, too.” He gives her a look like it’s not the same, but really, she’s certain none of them have actually tried sleeping. Who knows? Maybe, just because they don’t need it, ghosts can still get some shut eye.

“Have you ever been to New York City?” he asks curiously.

She shakes her head. “You?”

“Mm-hm. Once, when I was a kid.”

A car honks outside. It’s Carrie and her dad, ready to head to the airport. Julie holds her breath for Reggie to pop his head back in and hurry them up, but the studio remains peaceful.

“We should go,” she says, moving to leave.

“Wait, wait,” Luke argues. He traps her against the barn door and tips her chin up, so their eyes meet. Dipping his head, he kisses her softly. “This is the last time I kiss you for six hours.” Their lips meet with a more passionate jolt than the last. She rises into him, curling her fingers in his hair, tugging him as close as they can manage. The door wobbles behind her. One of his hand presses into her hip to keep her steady. A shared chuckle breaks them apart, Julie’s breaths ragged against his.

He smiles against her skin. “Baby,” he whispers, sending chills through her body. “You’re going to _love_ New York.”

**~**~**~**~**

Carrie’s waiting at the bottom of a staircase leading into a shiny white private jet in the middle of an empty runway. Dad’s able to drive right up to it; Carlos has been talking about how cool this is since they passed the security gate.

“Last chance to back out,” Dad says, looking over. “Blink twice if you need saving.”

Carlos leans forward between the front seats. “I’d be happy to check out that jet to make sure it’s, uh, safe for you, Julie.”

She ruffles his hair with a laugh. “Thanks, but I’ll be fine. It’s like I said, Dad. I’m helping Carrie with something.”

“Well whatever it is, hope you can survive it for the weekend. And,” he adds quickly after she’s already thrown her door open, “I want to hear all about it when you get back!”

“Yeah.” Julie smiles. “Trust me, Dad. I’m gonna tell you everything.” As she glances to the backseat—really catching Luke and Reggie’s eyes, making sure they’re ready—Carlos stares in alarm.

Reggie snickers, nudging his side. Carlos jumps, but it’s enough to get his head on straight. He sits back as casually as he can manage, waving her off. “Later, Jules.”

Dad kisses her cheek. “Have fun, mija. But not _too_ much fun!”

“Heh. Love you guys too.”

Carrie beams a little too brightly when she approaches. “Remember the rules,” she says through her perfect smile.

Julie adjusts the duffel bag on her shoulder. “Wow,” she says, side glancing at the guys. “Not even a hello? ‘Good morning’?”

Carrie rolls her eyes. “Hello, good morning, _no haunting on this airplane.”_

“She really thinks we’re going to risk freaking someone out ten thousand feet in the air?” Reggie asks, scoffing.

Julie ignores him. “Noted. Lead the way, _Your Highness.”_ As they climb the stairs, she mumbles over her shoulder, “This is going to be a _long_ trip.”

**~**~**~**~**

**OLIVIA**

At the Cort Theater, fifteen dancers run through their routine for the final time that night. They’re near perfection; if that front woman _Gina_ didn’t cause white hot hatred to dig into Olivia’s skin, she might’ve enjoyed it.

“Closer. _Closer,”_ she chants under her breath, rocking on her heels in anticipation.

Reed is nearby. Although she can’t see him, she can feel his gaze from the rafters. He lurks in the shadows, eyes burning almost as bright as her distaste; it’s chilling. If she didn’t know him, she’d be afraid.

“Closer,” she whispers, dancing around the Lifers now, mocking their movements, twirling and leaping, showing off her own talent. She’s better than any of these people. She could’ve been on this stage, easy. Could’ve been right there—front and center.

“Look out below!” he calls, his malicious laugh radiating off the walls.

Olivia sweeps to the side, catches her hands behind her, and watches with a grin on her face as a sandbag plummets to the stage. The hissing and whirling off the rope slipping through the pulley catches heated attention—there’s gasping, yelling, desperate warnings to _get out of the way!_

A blonde dives forward, shoving Gina to the ground.

The sandbag smacks into the stage floor.

In the silence, Olivia _simmers._

That girl—the girl from the park. The one Alex stopped Willie from draining of energy. The one Alex chased after—she ruined the fun. She ruined _all_ of the fun!

“Are you okay?” she asks, pulling Gina to her feet.

Gina sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Yeah… Thanks to you, Lainey.”

Lainey huffs. She wipes her forehead with the back of her hand. Together, they stare at the sandbag in shock.

Reed appears beside her. She flinches when his cold hand grabs her shoulder.

“Don’t worry, Liv,” he says not unkindly. Actually, he almost sounds _delighted._ “We’ll get her next time.”

Olivia nods. They watch Lainey and Gina, finally relaxing from what could’ve been, sit back with their nervous laughter quickly turning into an animated conversation.

She swells with that kind of excitement of Reed’s, an odd smile on her face.

“Next time.”


	7. times square

**WILLIE**

The torch gives, arguably, the best view of a New York City sunrise. Lack of Lifers and other distractions is just the cherry on top. He dragged Alex up there after they left the Cotton Club. There’d been silence between them, prompted on his part as he tried working out the uncertainty rattling around in his brain. Alex hadn’t made conversational efforts, either. Granted, that was kind of an information dump back there. Willie might’ve been more concerned by what it all meant if he hadn’t been so caught up in himself.

They spent the night there, completely alone and unbothered for the first time since arriving in the city. It was nice. He knew Alex appreciated the quiet. And although he wasn’t sure when they’d arrived exactly, the hours went by quick. Too quick. Maybe they’d have to spend another night.

When rays of an orange sun begin pouring through the windows, they’re laying on the ground. Alex’s pillow is his pink sweatshirt bunched under his head while Willie’s is Alex’s chest.

The arm that had been wrapped around Willie’s waist lifts to cover Alex’s eyes. “How is it morning already?” he whines. “I feel like we just got here.”

“We’re ghosts,” Willie says, as if that explains it.

Alex breathes a laugh that vibrates in his chest. “You know that’s a terrible explanation for me.”

Willie snickers. “You’re gonna have to accept that that’s just the answer to some things.”

“No way. I’m a man of _science.”_

“Yeah? Were you a science nerd too?”

“I actually passed with a B at the end of my junior year, so.”

Willie hums. “I had a C in it, probably. Now that I think of it, I was probably a C average student.”

“I think I was a B average.”

“Ha. I _knew_ you were a Smart Kid.”

Alex makes a noise of protest. “Why does that sound like judgement?”

“It’s not!” Willie laughs. “It’s _totally_ not.”

“Mm-hm. That tone _totally_ says otherwise.”

Willie pushes himself up. Hovering over him, his eyes flicker to the way Alex’s teeth catch his lip before meeting his gaze again. “I think it’s mildly impressive.”

“Mildly impressive? I was half of the reason Luke didn’t drop out of school. That takes _dedication.”_ Alex cracks a smile, even as Willie watches him suspiciously.

“That rockstar life was really starting to get to him, huh?”

His smile slips. “Yeah, well. You’ve met him; he’s a little ridiculous sometimes.”

“Yeah.” Alex doesn’t talk about his life often. Granted, neither does Willie. He likes hearing about it, though. Even small snippets like this, glimpses into who he once was.

“Hey, uh…” Alex looks away, sitting up. “Can we talk about last night?”

Willie chuckles, smirking. “Which part?”

“The part _before_ we came up here. At the Cotton Club.” Alex rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling as he shakes his head.

“Oh. Yeah. Weird, right? That stuff about Julie?”

“Uh-huh. Speaking of weird, what was up with you?”

“Me? Nothing.”

“You weren’t talking a lot. I thought _I_ was supposed to be the anxious one,” he jokes.

Willie shrugs. He hugs a knee to his chest. “I don’t know; guess I was just listening. I’m, uh, I’m sorry about what happened outside, though.” Alex raises his eyebrows. “You wanted to leave. We should’ve.”

Shrugging, Alex replies, “I don’t think it would’ve mattered. I’m quickly figuring out powerhouse ghosts are _stubborn.”_ They share a quiet laugh.

Staring at his shoe, Willie thinks about last night. When he looks up again, Alex is watching him.

“You know I met Caleb like, as soon as I became a ghost? First week or something. He kinda took me under his wing, showed me how everything worked and stuff. I had the stamp, too,” he adds dryly then pauses to think it over. “Which actually helped me out. You know, not all ghosts are chill. Some are actually pretty pissed that they’re dead.”

“Yeah…”

“But just mentioning that I knew Caleb was enough protection to keep people off my back. It was… great. There for a while, the Ghost Club was kinda my home, I guess.” He shrugs, reaching a hand up to play with his necklace. It’s the key to his actual home, something he hasn’t seen in decades.

“Is it bad that, because of Caleb, a part of me kinda trusts a powerhouse ghost immediately?”

Alex hums. “Yeah. But I mean, I guess I get it. When I meet someone like that now, _my_ first instinct is to run.”

“That’s why you’re a Smart Kid.”

“Think I’m just traumatized.”

Willie shrugs. “Perspective, man.”

They’re quiet for a moment. Willie tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. He’s still tired, which is an odd statement all on it’s own; he shouldn’t still be tired—he shouldn’t _be_ tired. Ghosts don’t get tired. They also don’t get cold, yet he was shivering yesterday.

He inhales, ready to air his concerns, but Alex beats him to it, “I think my family’s flying out here.”

Willie raises an eyebrow at him. “Like, Luke and Reggie and—”

“No. Well, yeah actually—I need to check in with them.” Alex shakes his head. “No, but it’s my—my parents. And that kid who’s my brother, apparently.”

“When?”

“I don’t know. Soon.”

“How soon is ‘soon’?”

“I don’t know! Lainey has a show coming up, I think. I guess whenever that is.”

Giving him a knowing look, Willie waits a second for Alex to piece his silent stare together before he says, “You know, we can go visit her. Figure out when exactly…”

Alex opens and closes his mouth. He holds Willie’s gaze for a few seconds before looking around aimlessly. “She’s not the same Lainey I knew,” he admits quietly. “I knew a kid. An annoying little sister who bugged me and my friends. She wore scrunchies in her hair, and she talked funny because she had braces.” Laughing softly, shaking his head, he reflects on a memory, “Reggie told her he liked her rubber band colors after she’d just got them changed, and I swear, she would have married him right then.”

Willie smiles fondly. “She might still wear scrunchies. 90s fashion _is_ making a comeback.”

“So I keep hearing,” Alex mumbles. He leans against the wall. “She’s like… She’s different.”

“Of course she’s different!” Willie chuckles, sliding over to him. “Dude. Babe. It’s been twenty-five years. I’d be kinda concerned if she still had the braces.”

Alex sighs. He lets Willie take his hand while he sits quietly for a few seconds. “What if I try to talk to her,” he begins in a small voice, “and she doesn’t remember me?”

Willie shakes his head. “Alex—”

“Or she doesn’t want to,” he interrupts. "You know we didn't talk the last few months I was alive? I know it was my parents' fault, but still, she didn't reach out. What if she doesn't want anything to do with me?"

“Alex!” Willie leans over, grabs him by the shoulders, and shakes him out of the autopilot ramble. “Listen, you _have_ to stop thinking like that. The way you talk about your sister… sounds like you two were close. That kind of relationship doesn’t just go away.”

He can see the muscles in Alex’s jaw clench as he avoids eye contact. Willie’s grip loosens. “Hey,” he whispers. He drags his fingers across his jaw and into his hair, brushing his bangs to the side. When he looks down, he has Alex’s blue eyes locked on him.

“I bet she misses you as much as you miss her.”

“Really?”

Willie knows Alex loves his family with everything in him. Luke, Reggie, and Julie mean the world to him. They call him sensitive; Willie agrees—perhaps it’s a biased opinion, but he has the biggest heart in the group. And he knows that Alex misses Lainey _so much._ More than she misses him, he has to say because he doesn’t know her, but he knows Alex, and he knows those eyes of his that are full of worry and doubt and fearful love for this girl he maybe thought he’d never see again. Sensitive, maybe. Willie calls it compassionate, though.

“There’s no way we can leave this city without you finding out.”

“Will you come with me?”

Like he has to ask. Willie smiles, taking Alex's face in his hands. “Dude, you’d have to drag me away.” Alex breathes a laugh that’s cut off by a soft kiss.

**~**~**~**~**

The cat Bagel knows they’re coming, apparently, because when they arrive in the tiny apartment, he’s already making his way over to their spot by the door. He purrs, curling around Willie’s leg and nuzzling against his calf. Willie shuffles back in surprise. When he was alive, he had dogs. Never cats.

“Alex,” he calls, a hint of panic in his voice. He doesn’t hate cats. He doesn’t, but once at the age of nine, he pet his grandma’s cat, and it bit him. So.

Alex looks back in alarm. “What? What’s wrong?”

Willie opens and closes his mouth, holding his gaze but unable to say it, chews on his lip, and gestures to the cat. When Alex doesn’t say or do anything helpful, Willie explains quietly, “I’m not a cat person, okay?”

Alex presses his lips into a smile. “Sweetheart, I can’t pick it up. They’re going to notice a floating cat.”

“At least, like… I don’t know, distract it or something?”

Instead of helping, he laughs. Willie is trapped at the mercy of Bagel the cat, and he’s laughing. Maybe, if Alex wasn’t so cute when he smiles, or if Willie wasn’t mildly embarrassed by the whole thing, he’d be a bit more angry.

He takes Alex’s hand when offered. “Come on,” Alex says, coaxing him away from the door. “What’s your damage with cats, anyways?”

“I was bit once.” Willie steps over the cat and hurries across the room. “Don’t want to talk about it,” he grumbles.

Alex hums, amused. “Okay.” Willie shoots him a playful glare over his shoulder.

“No one’s even here.” He turns to Alex. 

“Oh, good.” Alex kneels, beckoning the cat over. When close enough, he scoops Bagel in his arms. Willie shifts away when he stands. Alex watches him for a second before he says, “I’m not trying to belittle your animal fear, but… but look at his face.” He lifts one of Bagel’s paws to give a small wave.

Willie breathes a laugh. “He’s only cute because you’re holding him.”

Alex grins proudly. Behind him, a lock clicks, and the front door falls open. Willie stiffens. “Lex,” he says quickly.

Bagel all but drops out of Alex’s arms, stumbling into a landing at their feet. Alex whispers his apologies while Willie shakes his head in mild amusement.

Lainey steps inside carrying two bags of groceries with her phone to her ear. She kicks the door shut behind her and walks into the kitchen. “Gina thinks it was a ghost,” she tells whoever’s on the other end with a laugh. “Yeah, I don’t know if I believe it either, but sandbags don’t just fall out of nowhere. The crew’s going to double check everything before the show, though.”

She switches her phone to speaker, lays it on the table, and begins putting her groceries away.

Alex watches nervously, rocking on his heels, gaze never leaving his sister. “What do I do?”

Willie looks over. “Try moving something to get her attention.”

There’s a computer sitting on the kitchen table, closed. Lainey hums as she puts away her groceries, unaware of the way Bagel’s head is following Alex’s every move. Alex’s shoulders rise and fall with a deep breath. Then, just as Lainey is turning to grab the last two cans of soup, he pushes the laptop open.

Willie is the only one who moves, and even his footsteps are small and hesitant. Even Bagel, like he can sense the tension, sits frozen at their feet. Willie’s eyes dart between the siblings, wondering who’s going to make the next move.

Next to the laptop is a notepad and a pen. Willie can see the shake in Alex’s hands as he reaches for the pen. Lainey’s gasp echoes in the silence.

"Maya?" she says, watching in shock as the pen swivels across the paper. "Babe? I have to call you back."

Alex moves away quickly when he's finished. “I just did that,” he says quietly.

Although he may’ve been saying it to himself, Willie still responds, “You did.”

Lainey moves around the table slowly, one hand curled around the corner for support as she peers at the notepad. Meanwhile, Alex joins Willie in the doorway. Alex reaches for his hand blindly, and Willie grabs it, tugging him closer, intertwining their fingers.

“Not possible,” Lainey whispers, shaking her head. She points to whatever he wrote, eyes sweeping across the message two more times. “Not—No—” She looks around the room with tears in her eyes. "No way."

Alex unzips his fanny pack. With another deep breath, he lays something on the edge of the table. A Polaroid.

“The last one we took together,” Alex explains, eyes trained on his sister, backing away from the table.

Glancing back at him, Willie moves closer. It’s an image of that girl Alex described earlier: a fifteen year old with long yellow hair tied up in a green scrunchie. Her face is closer to the camera; he can see blurry freckles splashed across her cheeks and a mechanic grin accented with green rubber bands. Behind her is Alex, looking the same as he does now except with smeared black eyeliner under his eyes. He’s grinning so wide his eyes are half open. He can only imagine the fun that must’ve happened that night.

Next to him, Lainey chokes back a sob. Despite it, Willie finds himself smiling. It’s another piece of the puzzle that is his boyfriend Alex, another look into this past life that he hasn’t let go of yet. Willie swipes his thumb across Alex’s smile.

“So,” Willie says, turning to him, grinning, _“that’s_ what’s been in there, huh?”

Alex either doesn’t hear or chooses to ignore him. He sniffs; his cheeks are wet with tears.

Lainey collapses in her chair. She holds the picture pinched between trembling fingers. _“Alex,”_ she breathes. She sobs.

**~**~**~**~**

**ALEX**

_“Alex.”_

His name tumbling out of her mouth in a staggered breath snaps him out of whatever trance he’d fallen into long enough for him to slip outside. The chilly New York air is a slap in the face as everything finally sinks in. He revealed himself to his sister. Twenty-five and a half years later, she finally hears from him again.

He falls rather than sits on the stairs in front of her apartment. One hand squeezes the top of the iron rail while the other wipes his tears away. There’s a soft _whoosh_ next to him, and then Willie is there, taking his free hand between his own, softly kissing his knuckles, pulling him into a tight hug.

Alex buries his face in the crook of Willie’s neck, and somewhere in the back of his mind, something is telling him not to cry. His dad always told him _boys don’t cry,_ and Luke, Reggie, and Bobby said he was _sensitive_ (even though they’re the only people Alex had ever cried in front of, ever). 

After that picture was taken, his dad yelled at him for wearing eyeliner. It was the final straw, probably. He packed a bag. Never went back. Luke was already living at the studio. Alex drifted between there and Reggie’s house (but really, they all stayed at the studio more than once). They were there when he needed them; always there when he needed them.

Except he needs them now more than ever, and they’re thousands of miles apart.

**~**~**~**~**

**LUKE**

The first section of Julie’s room at the hotel—that’s right, the _first_ —is small and square with windows taking up three of the walls. Two purple chairs with white fur covers face a cream colored couch, and a gray, narrow coffee table divides them. Each window shows off a different view of the city. Through an open doorway beside the couch sits her bed, bigger than the one she has at home, clad in white with a furry blanket draped across the bottom. A matching ceiling-to-floor window from the first room covers one wall, providing all of the light. In the corner, hovering between the doorway and the window is a flat screen TV. To the left of the bed is a dark brown closed door, probably leading to a bathroom.

“Wow,” Julie breathes. She climbs on the bed next to Reggie, who’s already sprawled out and hugging a pillow to his chest. “This place is so—”

“Comfy,” Reggie sighs.

“Overrated,” Luke mumbles. Crossing his arms, rocking on his heels, he glares around the room.

Julie lays down. “Uh, that’s ‘cause you haven’t felt this bed.”

“I could spend the rest of eternity on this bed and be perfectly fine,” Reggie says into his pillow.

Julie reaches for Luke. He’s not close enough for her to touch, but he finds himself gravitating until she catches his wrist and pulls him in. She scooches closer to Reggie while Luke sits next to her. A comfortable silence falls over them, Reggie dozing off, Julie staring at the ceiling, and Luke trying to not remember that _Trevor Wilson_ is paying for this place. Because he’s over the whole ‘he stole their music’ thing… Really. Mostly.

They don’t flinch when a drumstick materializes in front of Luke. He looks down in surprise, though. Reggie sits up. Julie’s head rolls to the side.

She hums. “Funny, I was _just_ thinking about Alex.”

“You summoned him,” Reggie jokes, reaching across her to take the drumstick. Elbows on his knees, he unfolds the piece of paper taped to the end. “Hey,” he reads. “Hope you’re figuring something out. No rush, but there’s so much I need to tell you guys. Alex.” With a chuckle, he shows them the note. There’s a messy drawing of a cat in the bottom corner. It’s sitting down, tail curled around its feet. ‘Bagel’, written in handwriting that isn’t Alex’s, hovers above the cat’s head with an arrow pointing below. There’s a smiley face next to the name.

“That looks like Willie’s handwriting,” she points out.

“Bagel?” Luke whispers while Julie giggles.

“What do you think he has to tell us?” Reggie asks.

“Maybe they met someone famous. Or made new friends.”

“He needs to chill with the new ghost friend thing,” Luke says, shaking his head. “His last one got him stranded across the country.”

“Hmm… Think it was a mutual decision.” 

Reggie looks between them eagerly. “So, what’s the plan? When should we go look for him?”

Now, Luke almost says. _Right now._ Finally, they’re all in the same city again. He feels as restless as Reggie looks. They’re going to find Alex today, he’s sure of it.

Julie yawns, rolling on her side toward Luke and nuzzling into her pillow. “Is it too late to take a nap?”

“It’s 5:30,” Reggie says, looking back at a clock by the bed.

“Perfect.”

Loud clicking of heels echo down the hall, coming straight for their room. Julie shakes her head, groaning into her pillow. Then she sighs and pushes herself up. Luke chuckles, brushing away a loose strand that had fallen in her face.

“What’re you doing?” Carrie demands.

Julie looks around, confused. “Um. Am I supposed to be doing something?”

“We’re having dinner in an hour with one of my dad's business partner.” Hand on her hip, Carrie’s eyes flitter around the room. “Leave the entourage here.”

Her footsteps are quiet and muffled the further she is from their room. Julie doesn’t say anything for a second, staring at the now closed door. Reggie and Luke look between her and each other.

To the silence, she admits, “I don’t think we’re both going to survive this trip.”

“We can look for Alex later,” Luke offers while Julie climbs off the bed. “Until lunch is over, so we know you’ll at least survive that.” He and Reggie chuckle.

Julie opens and closes her mouth, shaking off whatever she was about to say and walking over to her bag on the dresser. “I’ll be fine,” she says, digging through her stuff. “Carrie’s going to be too focused on whatever business her dad’s here for. Nobody’s going to pay attention to me.” She smiles back at them. “I can eat my free food in peace.”

“That doesn’t sound like fun,” Reggie mumbles. “The being ignored part. I’m all for free food.”

Julie shrugs. “I’ll just text Flynn. Or Nick. He beat me in Cup Pong yesterday.” Her eyes narrow. “I want a rematch.”

“Cup Pong?” Reggie whispers.

“Just don’t be gone long.” She turns to them, an outfit in her hands, rocking on her heels. “Cause, you know… I’m still her neighbor for the next two days.” Hesitantly, she adds, “And I don’t want to lose you guys, too.”

“You haven’t lost any of us,” Luke says firmly. “But yeah, we’ll be back soon. Probably be waiting when you get back.”

Julie smiles at him. “Looking forward to it. Good luck guys. _Please_ stay out of trouble,” she adds quickly.

“Trouble?” Reggie repeats, laughing. “Us?” He and Luke grin at each other.

Luke holds Julie’s gaze for a few seconds before they poof away, right next to a castle in a snowy Central Park.

**~**~**~**~**

  
  


**JULIE**

_Nick:_

_Play again? :)_

Julie refrains from rolling her eyes. Why is Nick so good at this stupid game?

“Everything is ready for the grand opening on Sunday,” a woman wearing a gray pantsuit tells Trevor before finishing her cup of coffee.

“Perfect,” Trevor says. “I want to take a walkthrough to see how everything looks.”

Carrie isn’t listening, too focused on her Instagram feed. Julie glances between her, her dad, and Trevor’s sharply dressed business partner. She hasn’t exactly been paying attention either, but Carrie never told her why they were in the city. She hasn’t disclosed any information about why they’ve been visiting the last few years, actually.

“Uh, Mr. Wilson?” Julie asks, unsure.

He and his partner look over. He doesn’t look as annoyed as she does to be interrupted, thankfully. “Yes, Julie?” he replies, earning Carrie’s attention as well. 

They’re all staring at her; she picks at her nail polish under the table. “Well,” she begins, “I was just wondering what the big project is. What’s opening?”

Trevor’s eyes dart around, like he’s expecting someone to appear over her shoulder. The corner of his mouth twitches, but he doesn’t give into a smile. “It’s kinda like a homeless shelter, but for kids and teens up to the age of twenty. For the ones whose living situations are less than ideal.”

Although his smile isn’t cutting through, Julie gives him a soft grin. “That’s a sweet idea.”

“It’s part of a long line. I’ve opened a few shelters around the Los Angeles area and throughout California.”

“Wait, really?”

He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Uh, yes it is. I think it’s a great idea. Where’d you get the inspiration for something like this?”

Next to her, she can feel Carrie’s cold glare dig into the side of her face. Across the table, Trevor watches her with this unreadable expression that Julie still understands it to be something like _why are you bringing this up like you don’t already know,_ but that can’t be it because he doesn’t know she knows, right? … Right?

“Some friends I had in high school were in similar situations,” he says. “I, uh. I wanted to try doing right by them.”

Julie blinks. She holds his gaze for a moment, and he looks away first, continuing the conversation with his partner. Carrie eventually turns her attention back to her phone. Julie looks out the window, still reeling from the information. She’d been under the impression that Trevor left everything in his old life behind—including his friends. Is he telling the media a different reason? She’s never heard of _Trevor Wilson_ talking about high school before, but… well, she _did_ stop paying attention after her fallout with Carrie.

They’re in a small café a few streets over from Times Square. She’d been expecting a fancy restaurant, but really, this makes more sense. He’s always preferred chill settings versus being on display. That’s one thing Julie respected about him: he was in the industry for the music, not the fame.

From her seat, she has a perfect view of the bustling city outside. Even with inches of snow on the ground and flurries raining from the sky, the streets are still busy with people. They seemingly move in swarms. She’d never be able to pick out one person from another…

Unless they’re a crop top wearing, skateboarding ghost passing straight through people and laughing as he does it.

Julie stands abruptly, bumping the table with her hand and causing their drinks to slosh dangerously in the cups. They stare at her, Trevor confused and Carrie already muttering under her breath about what a bad idea it was to bring her along. Julie isn’t paying attention to any of them.

“I, um—” Julie grabs her phone. Smiling sheepishly, she grabs her coat off the back of her chair and rushes around the table. “It’s my dad; I have to take this. Be back in a minute!”

Outside, she takes a left, shrugging on her coat quickly as she weaves through the crowd. That was him, wasn’t it? Willie? It had to be. How many crop top wearing skateboarder ghosts are there in the world?

She spots him standing at the edge of an alleyway, talking to someone. When he leans down to grab his board, her heart flutters. It’s him! It’s really him—it’s Willie! Barely able to contain her excitement, she breaks into a run. The snowflakes are like ice against her chin, nipping at her cheeks and making her eyes water. Her fingers catch the corner of a building as she slides into the alley, calm and protected from the winter wind.

He’s there. He’s right there, talking to a teenager looking about her age, surrounded by spray paint. They haven’t seen her yet. There are a million things running through her head as she walks toward them, but between the cold air making her lungs hurt and the painful thudding in her chest from the excitement, she can’t choose the right thing to say or do.

So, she stops. The person he’s with finally looks up. They frown at her, then smacks Willie’s arm. The second he turns, she runs at him.

“Willie!” she cries, lunging at him. He stumbles, catching her around the waist and skillfully avoiding the skateboard he just dropped.

“Hey, Julie,” he says, laughing in her ear. “It’s only been a few days.”

“It’s almost been a week!” When she finally lets him go, she wipes her eyes with the back of her hand. “We’ve been so worried about you guys. Where’s Alex?”

His smile is small and fond, and his answer is vague, “He’s around.”

“You don’t know?”

“Chill out. I was with him earlier.”

Julie frowns at him. “If you’re not with him, then…?” It’s not like they’re home, where Alex has company outside of Willie. Plus, this city is huge and confusing. She’s surprised they even leave each other’s sides.

Willie doesn’t seem as concerned. “Relax, Julie. He’s fine.”

“Actually, he left just before you got here,” Willie’s friend says, turning to him. “I think he was heading for Time Square. Reed and Olivia might be out there too.” They shrug.

For some reason, Willie’s smile falters a little at the information. Still, he looks back at Julie like all is right in the world, but her attention is elsewhere now.

“Hi,” she says, drawing their gaze. “I’m Julie. And you are?”

They smile. “Andi.”

“Olivia’s their sister,” Willie supplies. “And Reed is a friend of theirs. We’ve been hanging out with them the last few days.”

“Oh! Okay, that’s good.” Julie rocks on her heels. “We thought you guys have just been on your own this whole time.”

“They were so lost before they met us,” Andi teases, grinning at him.

Willie rolls his eyes. “Hey uh, speaking of being on your own... Dude, please tell me you’re not just out here alone. Where are Luke and Reggie?”

“Looking for Alex. I was at that café around the corner,” she explains, pointing over her shoulder. “I’m here with a girl from school. It’s a long story.”

“Doesn’t sound that long,” Andi says.

“It, uh—a guy from Alex’s band in the 90s survived and stole their songs to make millions, and I’m frenemies with his daughter, and now I’m staying with them for the weekend, and… yeah.” Julie presses her lips into a smile, glancing up at Willie. “Things are a bit _tense_ at the hotel.”

Willie huffs a laugh. “I can imagine. Andi, I’m gonna head back with her. Catch up with you later.”

Andi waves. “Nice meeting you, Julie!”

“You too!”

When they reach the end of the alley, she turns to Willie. “So hey, um…” Chewing on her lip, grinning at him, she asks, “Did you guys get a cat?”

**~**~**~**~**

**ALEX**

“I have a question for you, friend,” Reed begins, appearing next to Alex. They’re at the bottom of the bleachers in Times Square, in a corner with little Lifers. Alex had only just arrived minutes earlier, drinking in the view. With the sun gone and the snow thickening, less and less people are out and about. But what the square lacks in visitors, it makes up for in vibrant jumbotrons that glow even more than usual in the white landscape.

“That girl from the park,” he says. “The one with the blonde hair. Who was she to you?”

Alex hesitates, glancing at him. “Why do you ask?”

“‘Cause we’re friends. And friends tell each other things, right?” Reed leans back, elbows on the seat behind him, and crosses his ankles. “So, who was she?”

Speculating, Alex proposes, “If you can tell me what exactly you were trying to do with the sandbag at the theater, I’ll tell you who she is.”

“Oh, you mean that night we met?”

Alex pauses. “Yeah.”

Reed chuckles. He jumps to his feet and shoves his hands in his pants pockets. “We were testing something,” he explains. “Making sure it worked before we tried it for real.”

“Was the real attempt last night?”

A chill moment of silence passes between them.

Reed sighs heavily, like the confession is nothing but a bother to him. “So, who’s the girl?”

“Why? Did she get in your way of _killing someone?”_

“We weren’t aiming to kill her. But if she dies from it, then she dies.” Reed shrugs, a wicked grin on his face. “Fate, right?”

Alex stares, contemplating everything he knows about this guy so far. Pressing his lips into a tight smile, he says, “Well it’s been nice talking to you, but I need to go find Willie.”

When he stands, Reed is on the seat behind him, slinging an arm around his shoulders and hugging just a little too tight. “Let me explain who this girl is,” he says, never losing his friendly tone. “She killed Olivia and Andi. Did you know? It was a hit and run. She didn’t even stop.”

“It was an accident.”

“You’re sure about that?”

“Dude, people don’t usually _aim_ for kids when they get behind the wheel.”

Reed shoves him away. “I just don’t think it’s fair. How come _she_ gets to be on Broadway, but Olivia and Andi never will _because_ of her?”

Alex opens and closes his mouth. That’s a good question. A really good question. Almost as good as _How come Bobby gets to live out his dream using songs that aren’t his?_

“Look, I get it.” Alex hides his hands in his sweatshirt pocket. “I get when something incredibly important is taken away like that. It’s not fair. Dying isn’t fair. And then having to come back and relive it? To see that person thrive?” He shakes his head. “But you can’t spend your afterlife trying to get revenge. And who are you to hold that over them, anyways? They’re the ones who had that opportunity taken away. Not you.”

Whatever friendliness there was at the beginning of their conversation is gone. Reed glares down at Alex, but Alex can’t figure out if Reed’s looking at him like an idiot or a kid who doesn’t understand. Or both. 

"Unless…" Alex doesn't back down, even though he's shifting his weight from one foot to the other. Rocking on his heels, glancing around like they're in on some big secret, he suggests, "Unless Death took your shining moment, too?"

Reed scoffs.

**~**~**~**~**

**REGGIE**   
  


From where they stand across the street, there’s no way he knows for sure it’s Alex by the bleachers talking to some guy in yellow pants. He has nothing to go on except a warm feeling in his stomach and pure faith that he can recognize his best friend, even from the back, in an unfamiliar world. When he smacks Luke’s arm, points him in the same direction, and Luke inhales sharply in response, disappearing and reappearing across the street before Reggie can blink, there’s no guarantee that it’s who they think. But Reggie follows, hot on his trail because they can see the tacky socks, the worn jean jacket, and the blond hair, and they might be running on a feeling, but it’s the best damn feeling they’ve had in days.

Luke cuts in front of Alex without looking to make sure this is even their fight. He matches this stranger’s height better than Alex, but even if he didn’t, Reggie’s sure Luke would take him on anyways.

“What’s going on here?” Luke demands, nudging the guy back.

“Luke?” Alex says, shuffling away. He spins around, glossy eyes landing on Reggie, and Reggie swears he can see life flood back into him. “Reggie!”

Chuckling, fighting back his own tears, Reggie lets himself be dragged into a hug. “Hey, buddy.” When Alex dips his head, burying his face in Reggie’s shoulder, Reggie holds him tighter. 

“Thank God,” Luke breathes, joining their embrace. There’s an arm around his waist, and then Luke’s forehead rests against Alex’s shoulder. 

“I missed you,” Alex mumbles, voice small and muffled against Reggie. “I missed you guys so much.”

“We missed you too,” Reggie says. “We were so worried, dude.”

He can tell by the way Alex keeps an arm around Reggie’s shoulders and Luke still has a loose grip at Alex’s waist when they break away from their hug that Reggie isn’t the only one feeling overly clingy. Maybe they also think they'll lose each other again if they let go.

“I’m sorry,” Alex says. His face is wet with tears. “I’m sorry for leaving like that, and I’m sorry for th—”

“No, shh, it’s okay.” Luke waves him off. “It’s okay. All that matters is that we’re here, and you’re okay.”

Alex sniffs and nods again. He looks like he wants to say something, but instead, he tugs them into another hug. This time, Reggie’s the one who buries his face in Alex’s neck and traps him in a tight hold. Luke’s grip feels possessive, too. That’s because it’s Alex, finally. And they’re not letting him go again.


	8. ludlow hotel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: there's a small panic attack during julie's pov (again. this is becoming a Thing), and the first part of andi's pov has them reflecting on their death. there's a space between that part and the present dialogue if you want to skip over that

**REED**

“How cute,” he says nonchalantly, checking his nails like he and Alex weren’t in the middle of a conversation and these strangers just interrupted. Maybe they’re Alex’s friends who haven’t seen him since he came to the city. Who cares? It’s been, what? Three days? Reed’s issue is more important than a silly reunion.

Alex rolls his eyes when he pulls away from them. “Shut up,” he says, hands back in his sweatshirt pocket. “Why’re you still here?”

“Yeah, we were _clearly_ having a moment,” his friend in the leather jacket argues.

“Well, _we_ were having a conversation before you flakes showed up.”

Leather Jacket leans toward the others. “I feel like he just insulted us,” he whispers loudly.

“Who’re you?” the Short One demands. He’s the one who interrupted before; just jumped in between them like he should’ve been there the whole time.

“Reed.”

“Okay Reed, what’s your deal?” Leather Jacket asks, crossing his arms. “Didn’t look too friendly back there.”

“Oh, well you probably assume because _it didn’t involve you.”_ Reed tsks, meeting Alex’s eye. “Actually, it was a _pleasant_ conversation. We’re friends; not that you guys would know.”

To his surprise, they _laugh._ Leather Jacket and the Short One share this _look—_ a knowing look that makes Reed feel left out of the loop. Alex bites his lip, like he’s trying and failing to fight back a smile. Reed crosses his arms over his chest.

“Yeah,” Leather Jacket says, not at all agreeing. “Sure you are, dude.”

The Short One nudges Alex with his elbow. “C’mon. Julie’s waiting at the hotel.”

Reed’s eyebrows raise. “Oh, Julie?” There’s a tension that falls over them at the mention of her name, but he brushes over it. “D’ya ever go to the Cotton Club lady about her?”

“The what?” Leather Jacket asks, incredulous.

The Short One shoots a confused look at Alex while Alex charges forward, grabbing Reed’s elbow and pulling him away.

“I don’t know what you’re trying to do, but stop,” he orders.

Reed crosses his arms. “Well, I wasn’t a fan of the whole…” He gestures vaguely. “Secret looks and everything.”

“Seriously? You sound like… like a jealous boyfriend or something,” Alex mutters, shaking his head. His words seep in a second later, and he steps back abruptly, staring at Reed with wide eyes.

“I do _not_ have a crush on you,” Reed says dryly.

“Then what’s your problem?”

“I’m trying to help avenge Olivia and Andi.” He shrugs. “Feels like my unfinished business right now.”

“How can it be _your_ unfinished business when they’re the ones who died?”

Reed pokes his tongue into his cheek, contemplating the question. “I just feel like I have to, okay?”

“No, _not_ okay. You’re trying to hurt someone.”

“Who are you, the police?” Reed scoffs. “If you’re worried about that girl, I’ll leave her alone. If you tell me who she is.” He watches him. “Tell me why she matters.”

“Dude, they both matter.”

“Now, where was that attitude the other day when Willie was going to suck the energy out of her?”

Alex rolls his eyes, shifting his weight. “She was gonna be fine.”

Reed cracks a smile. “Yeah, she was. And they’ll be fine after their show, too.” He shrugs. “Eventually.” His eyes flicker over Alex’s shoulder. Leather Jacket and the Short One are chatting, looking around the street and glancing back at them every now and then. Leather Jacket catches his eye.

“She’s my sister,” Alex answers quietly. Reed looks up at him. “The girl from the park; she’s my sister, okay? So, leave her alone.” He meets Reed’s eye. “Leave them both alone.”

Alex returns to his friends before Reed can respond. He watches him walk off, gaze flickering between his friends who are watching him now. Rolling his eyes, Reed turns to leave.

“Hey,” Alex calls, stopping him. Reed looks back, unimpressed. “Andi thinks this is all their fault. Maybe start there before you go looking for revenge.”

Reed scowls.

**~**~**~**~**

**ALEX**

  
  


“You guys flew out here with _Bobby?”_

Luke nods. “Yeah, dude. _So_ weird.”

“The plane ride wasn’t as bad as I thought it’d be,” Reggie admits, shrugging. “He mostly stayed in the front with Carrie.”

“And Julie and Carrie… are neighbors.”

“Uh-huh.” Luke falls onto the couch and kicks a foot up on the coffee table.

Alex shakes his head, sitting next to him. He chuckles. “And you guys are all surviving in one suite?”

“Trevor’s too busy with whatever business he’s here for,” Reggie explains, taking the couch across from them. “Carrie and Julie ignore each other.”

“Where are they now?”

“Dinner. They’ll be back soon. Hopefully,” Luke adds.

“So, can we talk about that jerk back there?” Reggie asks, elbows on his knees as he leans forward. “Dude, who was that?”

Alex rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a long story. His name’s Reed—he’s one of the ghosts we’ve been hanging out with the last few days. Thought he was just a weirdo up until tonight.”

Luke and Reggie share a look. Luke turns to Alex, clearing his throat. “So,” he says, and Alex’s stomach turns anxiously. “Since it’s just us right now… you wanna tell us what happened that day you left?”

Glancing between them, shifting in his seat, Alex nods slowly. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “Okay, um. I saw my mom Sunday. She had this kid with her; he’s our age, named Anthony.” He pauses before admitting, “He’s her son.”

It’s strange describing Anthony as his mom’s son because he’s not Alex’s brother. Not unless he’s actually their _blood_ son and not adopted, like Alex originally thought, in which case they really _would_ be brothers. Does it still count if one of them is on the other side of the life line?

Reggie frowns. "Dude," he whispers, eyebrows drawn together with concern.

Luke squeezes his shoulder. “I’m sorry, man. Why didn’t you tell us?”

Alex shrugs helplessly. “I don’t—I don’t know. There were so many thoughts in my head, you know? Like, bad stuff; I spiraled too quickly to figure it out. Willie had talked about wanting to go to New York a week earlier, and I was looking to get out of the city for a little bit, so…” He shrugs again. “We just left. Neither of us knew we’d get stuck here, though. Teleporting long distances takes so much energy. I couldn’t even summon my sticks at first. Willie didn’t have his skateboard. I don’t know about him, but I just felt really… lost.”

He breathes a laugh, shaking his head. Those days feel like years away, especially now that Luke and Reggie are here. Looking between them, twirling a drumstick between his fingers, he adds with a small smile, “I’m _really_ glad you guys are here. God, so much has happened. When Julie gets up here, I’ll tell you all about it.”

As if on cue, the door clicks open. Feet shuffle inside. He hears her say, “I should’ve _known_ you’d befriend a criminal.”

“First of all,” Willie argues, “they don’t consider vandalism a crime… At least, I don’t think so.” Julie snickers. “Second, what are you implying about me?”

Alex jumps to his feet and meets them halfway. He smiles, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, watching the exchange fondly.

“That you’re, probably, a bad influence,” she says bluntly, kicking off her shoes.

“It’s called _having fun,_ Julie. You should try it sometime,” Willie teases. He looks up, sees Alex, and his smile widens into a grin. “Hey, Hotdog.”

Julie’s head snaps toward him. She gasps, charging at him. “Alex!” she cries, throwing her arms around his waist. Immediately, he embraces her in a tight hold that rivals her own. Willie passes, squeezing Alex’s arm as he goes.

“Hey man,” he hears Luke greet Willie.

“Willie! Long time no see, dude!” Reggie adds.

There are fresh tears on Julie’s cheeks when she finally pulls back. “Hey,” Alex mumbles, reaching out to wipe them away with his thumb. “You’re gonna make _me_ cry.”

Her laugh is breathless. “I just really missed you. I know you said you were okay in your note, but…” She shakes her head, beaming up at him. “We just had to see for ourselves.”

“Good.” Alex chuckles. “Glad you guys made the trip. Things were getting boring around here.”

“Oh, I’m _sure.”_

Alex chews his lip. “Hey, Julie? About what happened in the studio—”

She waves him off. “It’s okay, Alex.”

“No, it’s not. I seriously appreciate you trying to help—any other day, I would’ve stuck around to listen. But there was just—just so much going on in such little time. I know I should’ve gone somewhere else if I wanted to be alone, but…” He shrugs. “The studio is The Safe Place. It always has been.” Alex shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to brush you off like that, or say any of those rude things. You’ve done _so much_ for us, Julie. And I know you weren’t—” He sighs, running a hand through his hair, lowering his voice. “You weren’t being nosy or anything with Luke’s parents. You genuinely wanted to help, and you _did,_ but—I guess my point is, my backstory’s kind of complicated too, and I wasn’t ready to share it yet. But that didn’t give me the right to be a jerk. I’m sorry, Julie.”

Her smile is back, which means something good, he hopes. “It’s _still_ okay, Alex. I forgive you. If you want, you can tell me when you’re ready.” Julie steps forward, pulling him back into a hug. “No rush.”

Weight lifting off his shoulders, he relaxes against her. Julie’s hugging him, which has become her Thing since they’ve been tangible—she’s great at them, by the way. In the other room, Reggie tells a dumb joke, and Luke and Willie laugh at it. 

Even if they’re not in their home city, everything's starting to feel okay again.

They’re greeted by bright smiles when Julie and Alex reenter the room. Reggie asks eagerly, “Is our family back together again?”

Julie laughs. “Back and better than ever.” She and Alex bump fists before splitting up, each taking a seat next to their boyfriends.

“So, how’d you two meet up?” Alex asks, pointing between Julie and Willie.

“Oh, I followed him into a dark alley where his criminal friend was tagging a building.”

“Uh-huh.” Willie turns to Alex. “The safer version: Andi was the friend.”

“That’s the _safer_ version?” Luke asks.

Alex nods. “Andi’s cool.”

“Okay, you guys are gonna have to fill us in on these ghosts. Andi, _Reed—”_ Reggie says, shooting Alex a knowing look.

“Yeah!” Julie grins, hugging a pillow to her chest. “Tell us everything about _New York City,_ boys.”

Alex and Willie share a smile.

**~**~**~**~**

**JULIE**

They talk for hours. She’s trying to stay awake as long as possible— _they_ can go all night, and she doesn’t want to miss a second of it. Especially not now, not when Alex is telling them about his _sister._ She’s someone Luke and Reggie knew in the 90s, and Willie’s [kind of] met her once already. Julie’s trying to hang on to every word.

“Out of everyone you could’ve met here,” Luke says, shaking his head in disbelief, “I wasn’t expecting your sister.”

“Have you talked to her yet?” Reggie adds.

Alex looks down, playing with his hands. “Not exactly, but, uh. She knows I’m around, so…”

“He’s working up to it,” Willie supplies.

“And my parents are coming to watch her show soon, but I don’t know when exactly.”

Luke and Reggie exchange worried glances. Julie wants to ask, but she remembers what Alex said earlier. If he’s not ready to share, she won’t bother him with it.

She’s settled against Luke, hugged to his side by a loose arm around her waist, aimlessly scrolling through her phone to keep her mind busy. If she sits still too long, she’ll start to doze. But it’s only like, one AM—the night’s still young.

“We can call it there,” Alex offers. When she looks up, he’s watching her. Dang.

“Don’t stop for me,” she argues. “I’m _wide_ awake.”

Luke’s chest vibrates with a low chuckle. “Sure,” he teases. “You were ready to pass out earlier.”

“I got my second wind.”

Her phone rings in her hand. She can feel Luke reading the ID over her shoulder. He stays quiet other than a short, knowing huff.

“Good thing I’m _awake_ enough to deal with this phone call,” she says, pushing herself to her feet.

“It’s like two AM,” Willie says. “Who’s calling that late?”

“It’s one,” she corrects, glancing at her phone. “And it’s only—” she does the math— “Ten back home.”

“Is it Nick?” Reggie asks.

“Yeah.” Julie steps over Luke’s feet and rushes into the other room. “Sorry, I have to take this,” she calls as she slips into the darkness. Stepping into her shoes, she answers the phone, “Hello?”

There’s a pause. Then, breathless, “Hey, Molina.”

As she’s stepping into the hallway, she hears Alex ask the guys, “What’s going on with Nick?”

She’d like to know that, too. “Are you okay?”

“The lights went out at my grandparents’ place,” he explains in a rush. “It was, like, the breaker box or something. I don’t know; I don’t know. Just, one second I was chilling in my room with the lights on, and then everything went dark, and I couldn’t see, and I didn’t know how to—I don’t know how to get the lights back on, and—and—you know how, with Caleb, he didn’t let you, like, _feel_ anything? Emotions and everything were snuffed out, which, I guess, worked at the time because I couldn’t focus on how confused or scared I was, but nothing’s muffled anymore, and I feel like it’s hitting me harder than it used to, and I don’t—Molina, I can barely figure out how to breathe just because the _lights_ are out.”

Julie would be lying if she said that whole spiel didn’t have her a little worked up, too. Not only does she know exactly what he’s talking about—probably not as strong, though. She was only possessed for a few hours; he’d gone _days_ trapped in his own body—but this sounds too much like what happened at the studio with Alex. Another one of her friends is dealing with something she doesn’t know how to help with. He’s panicking, and she doesn’t know the first step to calming him down.

“That’s okay,” she reassures gently. “It’s okay. I know what you mean, and I’d be happy to talk to you about it, but you need to calm down first. Can’t have a conversation if you can’t breathe, right?” She chuckles, hoping that’ll ease the tension. It doesn’t work, but to his credit, she can hear him trying to laugh along with her.

“This has never happened before,” he tells her quietly. “I don’t know what’s happening. My chest hurts. My head hurts. Nothing even happened—it’s just the stupid lights!”

Julie pulls the suite door shut behind her and starts down the hallway. There’s nobody to bother out here—everyone’s in their rooms, probably asleep. She tries not to think about how good a nap would be right now. “Your phone has a flashlight,” she reminds. “It works even during a phone call, right?”

A pause, shuffling, then—a sigh of relief. The other side is quiet for a few moments. Then, he admits sheepishly, “Thanks, Julie.”

She smiles. “That’s what I’m here for.”

There’s rustling in the background, followed by soft voices. “Hold on,” he tells her. “My sister just came running in here with a _candle.”_

“Lit?!”

 _“Penny, go away,”_ Nick says. He sounds further away than before. _“No, I don’t have a lighter. Why are you even awake?”_

 _“Are you talking to Carrie?”_ a small voice asks in a loud whisper.

Julie slaps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. 

Nick’s laugh is breathless and shaky. _“Nope, not Carrie.”_

 _“I_ miss _Carrie!”_

_“I’ll tell her next time I see her, okay? Goodnight.”_

By the time an elevator arrives and she’s stepping inside, a door shuts somewhere in the background. Nick sighs, muttering sheepishly, “Sorry about that.” 

Julie giggles. “It’s okay.”

“Her bedtime was, like, an hour ago. She’s always restless the first night at our grandparents’, though.” Nick hums. “Wait, shoot, it’s late there, isn’t it? Am I keeping you up?”

“Nah.” She steps off the elevator, yawning. “I was already up. We found Alex and Willie; been talking to them for hours.”

“That’s great.” She can hear the smile in his voice. “I know you were pretty worried about them.”

“Yeah…” Julie hides one of her hands in a pocket of her sweatpants. “I wasn’t entirely concerned about Willie—he seems like the kind of person who can manage on his own, you know? We were all worried for Alex, but… they’ve both been doing okay, actually.”

“That’s a good thing… right?”

The lobby has a warm red glow to it. Other than soft clicking from a keyboard behind the front desk and a radio playing somewhere near the bar, things are quiet. Nobody’s around except for a guy halfway through his drink at the bar. Julie takes a seat at the end of a long, red leather couch wrapping around a block pole in the middle of the room. Tables and chairs line the other side of the couch, and there’s a white stoned fireplace against the back wall. Above the fireplace sits a painted portrait of a strong jawed, brown haired man smoking a cigarette. Julie squints at it thoughtfully.

“Yeah,” she answers, tucking one leg under herself. “Yeah, a good thing.” A great thing; why wouldn’t it be? Why is there a bad feeling in her stomach? She doesn’t bring it up. Maybe if she ignores it, it’ll just… go away.

They talk for a few more minutes, mainly about how their trips are going so far. Julie suppresses most of her yawns, but one escapes her, and that’s when Nick decides it’s time for both of them to go to bed.

When she returns, Willie’s gone. The guys have migrated into her room, onto her bed—they’re borderline cuddling. She knows Luke won’t admit to anything when he catches her watching, but there’s no denying it: Reggie’s playing a game on Julie’s old DS, laying against Luke’s chest with his legs over Alex’s knees. Luke and Alex are watching the game over his shoulders.

Julie smiles. “What game is that?” she asks, quietly closing the door. She doesn’t miss the way they jumped at her arrival as she crosses the room to her beg.

“Kirby,” Reggie answers.

“Still?” She’d given him the DS last week with an arsenal of old cartridges she never plays anymore. She didn’t think Kirby was that hard of a game to get through.

“No, the new one. Super Star something.”

“Ah.” Julie grabs her pajamas, toothbrush, and toothpaste, and she steps out again.

Minutes later, they’re not so close. Although Reggie and Alex didn’t move, Luke is at the window now, gazing out at the city lights below.

When he sees Julie coming, Reggie scooches over to create space between them. Luke joins them again, sitting on the corner of the mattress and leaning against a bedpost. He asks Reggie about a game she’s never heard of, a memory from the 90s that she’s too tired to listen in on.

There, flanked by her best friends with her boyfriend at her feet, the atmosphere light and full of easy conversations, she sinks into her pillow.

“Goodnight guys,” she mumbles.

The last thing she hears before finally drifting off is a warm chorus of “Goodnight, Julie.”

**~**~**~**~**

**ANDI**

Blank, white walls. LED lights.

They’ve never noticed before lying in the middle of the floor and staring at the ceiling that their uncle’s dance studio is like the hospital. Balls of light glaring down like the first line of judgement once they go under. It’s quiet too, just like that operating room. Andi knew the moment they were beginning to slip away. A team of doctors hurried the gurney down the hall, shouting orders, pumping air into the mask strapped to their face, trying to keep them talking until they reached the operating room. Somewhere in the mess, a high pitched squeal of the gurney wheels cut through. Keys jingled on someone’s lanyard near their ear. There was so much noise.

Andi remembered it so clearly: _“I thought it’d be quieter when I died.”_

Someone must’ve been following along somewhere, latching onto every line like a gripping novel, because as soon as the thought crossed Andi’s mind, the world fell silent.

Bright lights faded. Kind voices whispering words of encouragement in their ear thinned into a low, unrecognizable buzz. The air with the fake smell pumping through her nostrils cut out, but they didn’t struggle. They inhaled deeply, and their lungs didn’t fill with anything, and it was okay. Everything was okay.

Andi didn’t fear death. Not like Olivia had. Not like Reed. They didn’t fear death itself, but when the time came to choose, to stay in that world or move on to the next, Andi chose Olivia, and Reed. Maybe they didn’t fear death, but Andi had never been away from home before. And that Next World felt a little too permanent at the time.

  
  
  
  


“Sold.”

Olivia waves the paper in front of Andi’s face. There were a bunch of words that they couldn’t make out from their spot on the ground, but the bolded red letters were clear: Their uncle’s beloved dance studio has been sold to someone else.

“They must've out this up yesterday. I didn’t even know people were _looking,”_ Olivia mutters.

“Makes sense,” Andi admits. They're having a staring contest with those lights up there. “This place has been abandoned for two months. It was bound to happen eventually.”

“How can you be so casual about this?” Olivia almost spits. “This studio has been our lives since… forever.”

“What’re we supposed to do about it?” Andi’s head rolls to the side to look up at her. “Haunt the new owner until they get scared and leave?” Olivia hums thoughtfully. Andi rolls their eyes. “Won’t work, Liv.”

“Well, we have to do _something!”_ Olivia hands the paper over when Andi sits up, reaching for it. “We can’t lose this place. It’s special to all of us, even Reed.”

“Whoa.” Andi squints at the paper. “The new owner is _Trevor Wilson.”_

Olivia snatches it out of their hands. “Why would Trevor Wilson want this place? Like you said, it’s abandoned. Most of the windows are broken from rocks.” She points at the ceiling. “Pretty sure I heard that rotten wood crack the other day. It’s going to come down eventually.” She catches the amused look Andi is throwing her way and adds with an eye roll, “What? Just because it’s run down doesn’t make it any less _ours.”_

Andi huffs, biting back a smile. “Right. Well, maybe he’s turning it into a music studio.” They perk up with a better idea. “Or, maybe a building for all of the arts? Oh, that would be cool.”

“Not big enough,” Olivia argues. “There’s not enough for room for all of that.”

Andi sighs. “Okay, so let’s say he keeps it a dance studio. Wouldn’t that be a good thing? It’d be a new generation of dancers being able to enjoy this place. You guys are the ones passionate about dance—shouldn’t you want to share it with others?”

Olivia’s quiet for a moment, letting the words sink in, before looking up at Andi. “You’ve really given up dance, haven’t you?”  
Andi holds her gaze—there’s genuine sadness in Olivia’s eyes that makes their heart hurt. They wonder if that betrayal from a few months ago still lingers.

Shrugging, they respond quietly, “I guess you can’t give up something you never had in the first place.” As Olivia opens her mouth to argue, Andi adds quickly, “Dance has never meant to me what it means to you guys. Liv, you stayed up until two in the morning to perfect a routine you’d learned that day, and when Dad asked why you were still going, you smiled and said ‘Because it’s fun.’ Two hours of class was more than enough for me.”

“But dance runs through our veins—literally! I mean Mom, Dad, Uncle Mason…” Olivia shakes her head, jabbing her thumb at Reed. “Even Reed, just a big coincidence to our family.”

Andi shrugs, helpless. “You think I _wanted_ to be more different from the family? I already told them I'm nonbinary.”

“Yeah, you really scream middle child energy.”

Andi snorts. “No way, that’s _totally_ you. Remember at the freshmen recital last year when I got the spotlight dance, so you ‘twisted your ankle’ and Mom and Dad bought you ice cream?”

“That was a _real_ _injury.”_

 _“Sure_ it was.”

Olivia glares for a solid ten seconds before her resolve crumbles. Rolling her eyes, she huffs a laugh. “Good times, huh?” she whispers.

Andi’s smile slips. “Yeah,” they answer, pulling at the end of their sleeve. “Good times.”

Minutes pass in silence, each deep in thought. Andi doesn’t like thinking about their lives. They don’t like remembering how their parents moved away after they died, and their uncle shortly after. Being a ghost has become their accepted lifestyle, but the reminders are what they can’t seem to get used to.

“Well,” Olivia says loudly, climbing to her feet. “I’m gonna find Reed. Maybe we can figure out a way to stop this.” She glares at the paper in her hands.

Andi looks up at her. Hesitantly, they ask, “What if you can’t?”

Olivia’s eyes have a firm, determined glint that would’ve given Andi goosebumps.

“We will.”

She disappears, and Andi’s alone again with their thoughts and that stupid blank, white wall.

They frown, tilting their head thoughtfully.

Or, maybe it’s a blank, white… canvas.


	9. manhattan mall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there's another panic attack here, and guesssss where it is???? i didn't mean for them to all be during julie's POV but i guess that's something to be addressed later
> 
> oh also during toward the end there's implied past drug use. a small paragraph or two when discussing somebody's past

**5:00 AM**

**ANDI**

Roxy is a lifesaver. The sun hasn’t even risen over the Hudson, and she’s hauling her third box of paint into the abandoned dance studio. Andi trails a few steps behind, carrying the final supplies. There’s a sheepish grin on their face that they haven’t figured out how to get rid of yet. Every time their eyes meet between trips to the car, Roxy gives this look that’s a mix between scowling and suspicious amusement. When Andi visited her an hour earlier, woke her from a deep sleep just to ramble about some paint job she’d suddenly had an idea for, Roxy didn’t question it. She’s a lifesaver and a great friend.

“That’s everything I own,” Roxy says, dropping her box next to the others. “Want to tell me what you need all of this for? Have we moved on to abandoned buildings?”

“This place used to be my family’s dance studio. It’s been bought recently. I don’t know how much time we have to do this, but…” Andi nods toward the empty wall in front of the windows. “That’s our canvas.”

“Okay. What exactly are we _doing?”_

Andi grabs a paint can and shakes it. They scrutinize the wall, imagining how things should go. There’s a lot they could add to this, and only so much space and time to work with.

“I think I want this to be…” Andi hums, rocking back on their heels, looking at Roxy. “My reasons for sticking around.”

**~**~**~**~**

**7:00 AM**

**LAINEY**

“What… are you doing?”

Maya pauses by the front door, smiling sheepishly, a piece of duct tape hanging from her elbow. “Good morning, sweetheart. Sleep well?”

Lainey hugs Bagel to her chest, staring at the mess Maya created. “What are you _doing?”_

“Well. You know how you said your dead older brother visited yesterday?”

“Yeah…?”

“And you know how I’ve been exploring different beliefs and studying witchcraft for the last few months?”

“Maya, oh my god.”

“Hear me out!” Maya gestures to the actual _pentagram_ in the middle of the floor, surrounded by candles. Lying innocently in the middle of the star is the picture of young Alex and Lainey from 1995. Maya explains, “Using that picture, I think I can summon him back here!”

“You _think?”_

“I _can.”_

“Maya. Babe. Baby. Sweetheart, I love you. And I appreciate what you’re trying to do.” Lainey smiles, but she’s shaking her head in disbelief. “But I do _not_ want a demon living in our apartment!”

“The chances of that happening are slim.”

“But never zero.”

“Ha.” Maya waves her off. “Just trust me, okay? I got this.”

Lainey moves into the kitchen as Maya grabs a dusty Book of Shadows she picked up at an old bookstore down the street last month. Bagel meows, nuzzling his head under Lainey’s chin. Lainey rubs her cheek against his fur.

“Yeah,” she agrees quietly, watching Maya recite something from the pages. “I think this is a bad idea, too.”

Chills suddenly run up Lainey’s spine. Goosebumps race across her arms. Maya moves away from the pentagram as the candles blow out in unison. One long, heart-pounding minute of silence passes between them.

“Maya,” Lainey calls, pressing into the cabinets.

“I’m okay.” Maya turns on a lamp next to the couch. Their apartment is empty. Lainey leans forward, peeking around the corner of the wall. From what she can see, Maya’s alone in the living room. But from what she can feel?

“You know,” Lainey begins, trying not to think about the feeling of something or someone being nearby, “my parents are coming today. They’re some of the _most_ religious people on the _planet.”_

“Well.” Maya cracks a smile, albeit nervous and less eager than before. “Maybe they can sprinkle some holy water and help us get rid of a demon.”

On the stovetop next to Lainey, Maya left a pan from dinner last night. It’s one of those “deal with it in the morning” things. Lainey hasn’t even noticed it.

But then the handle jerks to the right.

Startled, Bagel slips from her arms. As soon as his feet hit the ground, he walks to the edge of the stove, purring and rubbing his head along something; something that _isn’t there._

Lainey scrambles away, hand flying to her mouth as she bumps into the dining table. Maya rushes in, wielding a makeshift pencil cross in front of her.

“What do we do?” Lainey whispers.

The ghost person takes a pencil from Maya and carries it across the room to her planner lying on the desk. Lainey watches in shock as the planner flips open and the pencil swivels effortlessly through the air.

When they’re finished, they carry the planner over. It hovers in the air, showing off the same message he’d left before. Lainey’s breath catches.

“He spelled your name wrong,” Maya says.

_Hi Lamey_

“No.” Lainey swallows the fear digging at her chest. “That’s what he called me sometimes.” Despite herself, she rolls her eyes. “He always thought it was so clever.”

“So… it’s him?” Maya looks back at Lainey with wide eyes. “It’s… Alex?”

"It's Alex." She can't believe she just said that. "Hi… Alex." The pencil waves. Lainey still can't believe her eyes. "What're you doing here?"

He turns the book away, scribbles something, and reveals it again.

_Just visiting. Missed you_

A small part of her heart might break, but she doesn't comment. "Visiting from where? Home? Have you been in LA this whole time? Or here?"

_LA. Long story_

Long story. A twenty-five year long story? Her heart hammers in her chest at the possibility. Everything she's ever wondered about her big brother—what tour was like, how he managed to survive away from home after leaving in June (though, she'd always figured his friends helped him out), what happened with Luke (she remembers seeing the Missing Person posters around town and worrying with a heavy heart if she'd have to create one for Alex soon), and most importantly, how he died—can finally be answered because he's here. Right here, in her living room. She may not be able to see him, but she can _feel_ him. He's just as warm as she remembers.

Tears prick her eyes. Maya grabs her hand in a tight hold. Lainey gives him a watery grin. "Well," she says, her words wavering. "We have time." She gestures toward the living room. "Start from the beginning, 'lex."

  
  
  


**~**~**~**~**

**10:00 AM**

**REGGIE**

Julie practically bounces on the balls of her feet the whole way down to the lobby. Neither of the Wilsons come close to her energy level—Reggie has to snicker. She’s been eager since she woke up that morning.

“We found Alex,” she’d said as she brushed her hair. “We’re in freaking _New York City,_ and it’s _snowing_ outside.”

They stand next to her in the elevator. Luke has this look on his face—soft and fond, watching her like he can’t tear his eyes away. Reggie’s grinning for the both of them. He can’t help it; they’re too cute.

“Sooo,” Julie begins, breaking the silence of the elevator. “What’re we doing today?”

Trevor glances at her, then smiles at Carrie. “I think you two are going shopping, right?”

Carrie smirks—or maybe that’s just her smile— “Yep. I need a new outfit for Sunday.”

“Me too,” Julie agrees. “Maybe?”

“You do.”

“Okay, I guess I do.”

“What’s Sunday?” Reggie says to Luke, who shrugs.

There’s a tall, fit woman waiting in the lobby for them. Reggie recognized her from the plane. She has copper red hair cut just beneath her jaw, wavy like she’s just hopped out of the ocean. Trevor introduced her as Carrie’s bodyguard, not typically needed at home, but always tagging along to events like this.

Carrie beams at her. “Hey, Daphne.”

Trevor nudges Julie with his elbow. “Can I talk to you for a second?” he asks, already stepping aside.

“Uh—” Julie throws a wide eyed look back at Reggie and Luke as she follows him. They fall into step on either side of her. Reggie notices Julie pulling her coat across her chest, probably trying to hide Alex’s hoodie that she decided to put on last minute. She’d been tentative to take it earlier, giving in only after Luke reassured that Alex definitely wouldn’t mind. Reggie thinks it’s cute that she likes stealing their stuff sometimes, even though he can’t believe that, after all they’ve been through, she really thinks they care. He’d actually be hella proud if she decided to wear his leather jacket to school one day (since he _does_ have the coolest fashion sense).

“What’s up?” she asks when she nears.

“Just making sure you’re okay after yesterday.”

“Yesterday?”

“I found you leaving an alleyway by yourself after running away at dinner.” Trevor raises an eyebrow in that kind of Suspicious Father way that Reggie’s seen Ray do before, and it’s weird. Sometimes, he forgets Bobby isn’t Bobby anymore, but he’s _Trevor,_ and Trevor is actually a father of a _teenage girl._ If he thinks about that too long, he gets a headache.

“Oh.” Julie shoves her hands in his coat pockets, rocking on her heels. “Uh, yeah… Funny story, actually.” She laughs, side eyeing him and Luke for help.

“Say you had to take a phone call,” Luke suggests.

“Tell him there was a cat in the alley!” Reggie adds.

“I… saw this cat,” she begins. Reggie turns to Luke with a triumphant “Ha!”, and Luke rolls his eyes. “I wanted to pet it.”

“A cat,” Trevor repeats dryly.

“Yes.”

He stares for a second before sighing, rubbing his temple. “Look kid,” he says, eyes fluttering open. “Your dad has trusted me to keep you safe this weekend, and I can’t do that if you’re running off chasing _cats.”_

Chewing on her lip, shifting her weight, Julie looks sheepish. “I’m sorry.”

Something over her shoulder catches Trevor’s eye. In one breath, he’s frozen. Julie squints at him, eyebrows drawing together with confusion. Frowning, Reggie turns, searching for whatever has him trapped.

His mouth falls open. Nudging Luke with his elbow, he points across the lobby. “Is that…?”

An older couple—a man with graying hair and a short blonde—stroll across the floor with a teenager trailing behind, taking a video of the hotel’s expensive looking interior on his phone. Reggie doesn’t know who he is, but the couple throws him back twenty-four years. He remembers study sessions and sleepovers at the Mercer’s. A safe place to hideout until his own parents finished their daily feuding. Fresh baked cookies. Lainey with her music up way too loud, just to annoy them. Late dinner after Sunday night service.

He remembers twenty-five years ago: Alex suddenly paying for school meals out of his own pocket; coming to band practice in the evenings quiet and woozy because he didn’t have dinner yet; hearing less about how Lainey kept stealing his stuff, how annoying she is when she drones on about a boy she likes in class, their little jokes they’d play on their dad, and how their dad would retaliate. Hearing less from Alex in general, really. It had taken a few months to finally get him talking.

Reggie still remembers how _angry_ and _helpless_ he felt. His hands ball into fists at his sides. Next to him, Luke scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest.

Julie frowns. “Who are they?”

“No one special,” Trevor answers. Shaking his head, he nods toward the exit. “Come on. Carrie and Daphne are waiting for us.” He stalks off, ignoring a starstruck stare Anthony has fixated on him as he passes. Behind Anthony, his parents don’t even spare a glance.

Nervously, Julie looks at Reggie and Luke. “Guys. Is that who I think it is?”

Denise handles the check-in with a warm smile. Reggie used to trust that smile more than he trusted his own mom’s. Meanwhile, Ben has fallen back, slinging an arm around Anthony’s shoulders. They’re laughing about something; father and son.

Reggie turns away quickly; he isn’t going to let them ruin today. Especially not when Julie was so excited earlier. He shifts in front of Luke, blocking his view, catching his eye. The only Mercer they should be worried about right now—or ever—is Alex.

Luke nods at him slowly, blinking, finally dragging his gaze to Julie. “Yeah,” he breathes, running a hand through his hair. “Alex’s parents.”

**~**~**~**~**

**11:00 AM**

**ANDI**

Reasons worth sticking around:

  1. Olivia is here. Reed too, but Olivia’s always been here. She’s the one thing Andi could always count on, even if they didn’t always get along. Even if, sometimes, Andi wished they were an only child. Olivia stayed because she wasn’t ready to give up dance. And Andi, I guess, stayed because they weren't ready to give up Olivia.
  2. New York City sunsets, and the view of them from the dance studio roof. Olivia prefers sunrises; one of the few things that only Andi and Reed have in common is a love for the evening pink and red hues. He’ll join them on the roof sometimes. They don’t talk unless they want to; Reed almost never wants to. Still, Andi appreciates their time together. They aren’t close compared to their relationships with Olivia, but on those evenings, he almost feels like family.
  3. Roxy and her criminally artist methods. She leaves New York City just a little bit more colorful with every painting. People focus more on her art in the subway stations and less on pack rats fighting over a hotdog bun. Andi’s seen photos of her murals on Twitter and Instagram; she doesn’t realize how talented she is.
  4. Broadway shows: _Hamilton, Wicked, In the Heights, Oklahoma!_ —just because they aren’t as into theater as their sister doesn’t mean they can’t appreciate the art. Lin-Manuel Miranda is one of their favorite creators. They watched every Hamilton play with the original cast that they could catch. That was something they all had in common, even Reed, who, begrudgingly, came around to modern theater.
  5. The castle in Central Park. Sometimes, Andi likes pretending they’re in a different world, ruling over a majestic kingdom. There are pages in old art notebooks of the fantasy world they’ve created. When they ponder for too long about this new life they’ve been thrown into, they look back on old drawings. They remember simpler times, when they could get by on sunsets and fantasies.
  6. Visiting their favorite art teacher from high school, the one who told them about working in art therapy.
  7. Meeting ghosts, unbelievably. As diverse as New York City is, the afterlife is even moreso. There are spirits lingering from even the United States’ early settled days. Finding them is a hunt, though. A treasure hunt.
  8. Alex and Willie. Although they haven’t known each other very long, and they’ll be going their separate ways soon, Andi’s glad to have known them for even a few days. Alex is the brother they never had. Willie’s exciting and kind of reckless, but he knows more about things than they even realize. Andi can relate to that. They hope Alex and Willie found what they were after here; this city’s great for discovering yourself.



**~**~**~**~**

**12:00 PM**

**JULIE**

In Julie’s defense, she didn’t mean to get separated from Carrie and Daphne. She just stopped to look at something, they continued, and now here she is, exploring the mall on her own. Even the guys are gone. Willie showed up on the ride over, then the three of them got distracted by a small record store next to the mall. She hasn’t seen them since.

Julie’s not looking for an outfit. The clothing she brought along is perfectly fine, even for a Trevor Wilson event, thank you very much. Besides, she can’t afford anything here on her own. Not unless she uses the credit card her dad gave her for emergencies _only._ SHe might be able to reason that buying him an ‘I Heart NYC’ shirt is an emergency, but definitely not a pair of shoes.

As she steps onto the top of the escalator, she looks for anyone familiar. Maybe Alex is back and they’re running around down there, getting into trouble. Though, a tiny part of her hopes that’s not true. It’s not that they have to be with her all of the time. She _can_ manage being on her own. And Alex has other stuff going on, which has clearly been happening since before they arrived in the city. That’s okay. It is, but even still—Julie sighs, shaking the thoughts away. They probably just don’t know where she is. This is a big mall, after all.

“Oh my.” She jumps at the voice behind her. “You’re not—?”

Julie turns, raising an eyebrow at a redhead a few steps up, smiling down at her. “Julie,” she says, “from Julie and the Phantoms?” 

Julie blushes. “That’s me.”

“Wow,” the woman breathes. “I must’ve watched your video hundreds of times on YouTube. You’re very talented.”

Julie smiles. “Thank you.” At the bottom, she moves away from the escalator. The woman follows. Julie tries not to stare at her outfit for too long, but she looks out of place—a black pencil skirt, matching heels, and a big, black fur coat that drops almost as low as the skirt. A cigarette rests between her fingers, lit but not smoking (that Julie can see anyways), yet she takes a drag of it anyways. Maybe there’s some convention nearby, one dedicated to the 20s. Or maybe she’s cosplaying. Either way, the outfit looks pretty authentic.

“Visiting for the holidays?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Kind of.” Julie hides her hands in her sweatshirt pocket. “This is my first time in the city.”

“Oh? And how are you liking it?”

“I love it.”

The woman smiles. “I figured you would.” Julie frowns, tilting her head and squinting. She adds without missing a beat, “Everyone loves New York at Christmas. Even the natives have to admit there’s something special about the city during this time.”

“Yeah.” Julie smiles politely while her eyes dart past the woman. As she’s searching for the guys, something occurs to her. There are tons of people walking by, but no one’s sparing a glance at this woman’s clothing. Some even veer oddly close, almost like they could…

Like they could walk right through her.

Julie’s breath catches. “Um,” she says carefully, wincing at the way her voice suddenly shakes. “What do you want?”

The woman’s smile falters. Her eyebrows furrow, and as weird as it sounds, Julie thinks she almost looks concerned. About _her;_ some girl she doesn’t even know.

“I’m guessing you’ve figured out what I am.”

“What do you _want?”_

A group of teens gave her weird looks as she passed. Julie shifts her weight and pulls at her sleeves. She shouldn’t be doing this, talking to people only she can see. Not alone, and especially not persistent _strangers._

Something hot and sickening courses through her. She eyes the sparkling shoes and the fur coat. Realization sinks in her stomach like a bowling ball—this woman looks like she belongs at _Caleb’s club_ —and suddenly, she’s rushing through the mall. Julie can’t remember exactly when she turned away, but she’s heading straight for an exit door now. In the back of her mind, she worries about an alarm sounding when she pushes it open, but dealing with an angry security guard is much easier than one of Caleb’s ghosts.

There isn’t an alarm. Once she pushes past the first doorway, she stumbles into a long hallway with another exit at the end. There are doors along the walls, each with a store name plastered to the front. Anybody could walk out and see her, but at the moment she’s alone, and that’s enough.

Fresh tears blur her vision. She can barely get her phone out of her pocket without dropping it. Her ragged breathing echoes louder than the blood pumping through her ears.

She should call Carrie, demand they leave. But if she speaks, she’ll surely break down. Maybe Flynn; she doesn’t care about crying in front of Flynn.

Nick would understand, though. He might be the only one who understands completely. She could call him… if she can manage with the violent shake in her hands.

A gentle breeze brushes past her. “Hey, I found you!” Reggie cheers. Julie looks up in surprise. His face falls immediately. “Ju—Julie? What happened?”

She opens and closes her mouth, trying to figure out how to explain it without completely falling apart. Her lips are quivering too much to actually form words. A choked sob escapes as she throws her arms around him. He catches her immediately, strong arms caging her in a protective embrace. Her phone finally slips from her grasp, but she doesn’t hear it crash onto the floor.

Julie buries her face in his shoulder, hands balled into fists around his flannel. Reggie rubs her back soothingly. “It’s okay,” he tells her softly. “I’m here. The others will be here too, soon. It’s okay.” She’s sure he doesn’t know what happened—absolutely _positive_ —but still, after a moment, he adds gently, “You’re safe.”

And although hearing that makes her chest tighten—because she remembers quickly the very reason she didn’t feel safe, and that she hasn’t really felt safe since meeting Caleb—she can feel herself relaxing seconds later as he holds her closer. Slowly, her hands release his flannel. She can feel her breathing even out.

Julie sighs, forehead against his shoulder. “Thank you, Reggie.”

His chin rubs against her hair as he shakes his head. “You don’t have to thank me. I’m just glad I was here.”

She smiles, albeit weakly. “Me too.”

When they step into the mall again, they’re both on high alert. Reggie keeps close, eyeing everything: the stores, the escalators, the Lifers passing by. Julie takes a deep breath, silently reminding herself that everything’s going to be okay. Reggie’s here, the others probably aren’t too far behind, and whoever that woman was isn’t going to bother her.

“You don’t think someone from Caleb’s club would be all the way out here, do you?” she asks quietly. “I mean… we’re on the other side of the country.”

Reggie shrugs. “He said they play venues all over the world.”

“Okay.” That doesn’t make her feel better. “Why would she talk to me?” Even as she asks, there’s an idea in her head, and when Reggie looks over, she can tell he’s thinking the same. Neither answers the question.

Shoving her hands in her pockets, she admits, “I don’t like how I just… freak out over ghosts now.”

Reggie chuckles. “When did you _stop_ freaking out over ghosts?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Well… in your defense, we’re kinda creepy.”

“You’re not creepy.”

“We’re dead,” he deadpans. “That’s a little creepy.”

Julie snickers. “Your words, not mine.” 

He side-eyes her, grinning. She smiles back.

~**~**~**~

**5:00 PM**

**ANDI**

They’re halfway done. Roxy’s almost finished with her dinner: a fast food meal delivered by Doordash. He was confused when he arrived, approaching the abandoned building cautiously. Andi laughed from the top floor window. Roxy paid and left with a simple thank you, and he stared after her for so long, Andi worried he’d call the cops. Eventually he left, no police arrived, and they’ve sat in silence for twenty minutes, contemplating the artwork.

“Andi,” she says suddenly, still staring at the wall. “What is this?”

“What do you mean?” Andi frowns. “You don’t like it?”

“No, I do.” Roxy finally looks over, eyebrows drawn together thoughtfully. “This is definitely one of your best works.”

“Then… what’s the problem?”

“Why are we doing this? Using this place as a canvas?”

Andi doesn’t know why that matters. They shrug and answer anyway, “I guess I’ve always wanted to paint this place. I don’t know why my uncle kept it so bland and colorless, especially considering this is a studio for _kids.”_

Roxy hums. “I guess I understand.” She grabs a handful of fries and shoves them in her mouth. As she chews, she looks at the mural again. Once she swallows, she asks casually, “How’s the afterlife treating you?”

“Same as usual, I guess.”

“Is the usual bad?”

“The usual is the usual, Roxy. What do you want me to say?”

Roxy sighs. “Nothing.” She tosses her trash in her back and climbs to her feet. “Second half, let’s go.”

Andi watches her grab a can of spray paint and return to the wall. What just happened? What was Roxy talking about?

She looks back at them. “Well? You’re the one who said we’re on a tight schedule.”

Frowning, Andi joins her at the wall. “Right,” they say, shaking up a can. Together, they continue in silence, similar to before.

But now there’s a sinking feeling that Andi can’t quite shake.

  
  


~**~**~**~

**5:00 PM**

**REED**

  
  
  


Three hours until showtime. He and Olivia watch the madness from the rafters, feet dangling fifty feet above the stage. They’re quiet, probably thinking about what’ll happen tonight. And then, what happens _after_ tonight? What will they do when they’ve finally gotten their revenge?

“Hey, Reed?” Olivia asks, nudging him with her elbow. He blinks, looking over at her. “I know it’s random, but… can you tell me what happened between you and Uncle Mason?”

“We got in an argument outside our apartment.”

“What was the argument about?” He frowns at her. She holds his gaze for a few seconds before sighing and rolling her eyes, giving in. “Look. If all goes according to plan tonight, it’ll be like Andi and I are kinda… avenging our deaths, right? Which means that chapter of our afterlives can finally come to a close.” Olivia leans forward, elbows on the rail as she watches the dancers rehearsing below. “I think I’m ready to move on after this. To try enjoying this new version of life. I know Andi will be on my side, but I want to move on with you.”

Reed raises an eyebrow. “Okay? What’s stopping you?”

“I feel like you’re still mad about how you died.”

He scoffs, looking away from her. “It’s been decades, Liv. I’m _not_ still angry.”

“Then tell me what the fight was about.”

Tapping his fingers on the rail, glaring at nothing in particular, he contemplates. “I thought he was cheating on me,” he eventually says, glancing at her. “He and this guy from class had something going on. It was like they always spoke in inside jokes. I always felt out of the loop when they were together, so I told him I didn’t feel comfortable being around his friend.”

Actually, it was more like _“You can’t hangout with this guy anymore”_ but. Same thing, right?

“Things were rocky for a little bit. We drifted apart, practically on a break without ever actually admitting it. I found new… interests outside of dance. Something to help me get better. When he found out, he flipped his shit. Tried getting me to stop, saying it wasn’t good for me and everything. But I couldn’t just give it up though, you know? It got me to _Broadway._ I’d just aced an audition a week earlier.”

Olivia frowns. “What were you on?”

“It doesn’t matter now. We argued in the street. He had the _audacity_ to _finally_ worry about my health, even when he and that guy were still friends.” Reed swallows thickly, looking at the dancers below. “I heard the car coming. And I didn’t care.”

She’s silent; he can see her watching from his peripheral. He holds his breath waiting for her response. Instead of saying something though, she scoots closer, wrapping her arm around his, and letting her head fall on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” she says quietly.

“It was a long time ago.”

“Have you ever thought about tracking Mason down? Making up with him?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know where to start. Or if he even came back.”

Of course he’s thought about finding Mason. The thought’s been on his mind every day since they found out a few weeks ago. But he has his doubts.

Why would Mason come back as a ghost, anyways?

“Let’s just focus on tonight,” Reed suggests. “Big things are happening, remember?”

Olivia nods, lifting her head. “Right. Everything ends tonight.”

Below, the actors and dancers do a final run-through.

~**~**~**~

**5:30 PM**

**ALEX**

Carrie doesn’t knock on Julie’s door. She strolls in like it’d be open already, and she barely notices the way Julie’s sat on her bed with a pillow sandwiched between her knees and her chest, quietly looking through her phone. 

Alex tips his chin back to look at her upside down. Somehow, they’ve all managed to fit on the bed. His head is in Willie’s lap as Willie sits with his back against a bedpost. Luke and Reggie are on either side of Julie, Luke curled into her and Reggie’s legs stretched out across Alex’s. They look like some kind of puzzle. Before Carrie arrived, they were enjoying the peace and quiet after whatever happened at the mall (Julie hasn’t said much, and Reggie even less). Julie doesn’t look, so Alex handles the weak glare for her.

“Guess who just invited us to a show tonight,” Carrie sings, leaning against the doorframe.

“Oh, that guy you barely know?” Julie mumbles.

“The _cute_ one from the lobby who recognized _me_ immediately?” Carrie smirks. “Yup, that’s him. And we’re going.”

Julie whines, “I don’t want to go out tonight.”

“Too bad. You’re a guest on my trip, so what I say goes.” She hums, clearly satisfied with herself. “Be ready in thirty minutes.”

“Wow. Sure you can make it in time, Carrie?”

Carrie frowns, crossing her arms over her chest. “What’s your deal?”

“I’m just tired.”

“On a Saturday night in New York City? Not acceptable.”

Julie sighs, glaring at the TV in the corner. Chewing on her lip, locking her phone, she gives in. “Fine.”

Alex frowns, sitting up. “Julie, you don’t have to.”

She ignores him, switching her weak glare to Carrie. “See you in thirty minutes.”

Carrie holds her gaze for a few seconds, shifting her weight, before nodding and walking out. She pulls the door shut behind her.

“Hey, you’ve had a long day,” Luke says as Julie crawls off the bed. He tries catching her arm, but his hand falls flat once she walks away. “Julie. You don’t have to go.”

“No, she’s right.” Julie shakes her head, searching her bag. “We’re in _New York City._ I can’t just stay inside. Besides…” She looks back at Alex and Willie. “Alex, isn’t your sister going to be in it? Don’t you want to watch?”

“His family’s gonna be there too,” Willie reminds. He glances at Alex.

“Why don’t we _all_ stay in tonight?” Alex suggests, half serious. “We can have, like, a movie night or something.”

Even as he says it, he doesn’t want it to happen. After his talk with Lainey, he wants to see more of her. He wants to see every performance. He wants to hear more about what happened after he died, what he missed out on, how she and Maya met, and how she came up with Bagel’s name. He _just_ got his sister back, and he wants to spend as much time with her as he can.

“It’ll be fine,” Julie reassures. “A good distraction, you know." She turns to Alex, smiling. “I kinda want to see your sister, too. If she’s anything like your brother—”

 _“Not_ my brother,” Alex corrects, then frowns. “You met Anthony?”

Reggie snickers. “Yeah, dude. Who do you think they’re going to meet tonight?”

Alex’s eyes get big. _“Anthony_ asked out Carrie?”

“Yes.” Luke shakes his head. “It was weird.”

"Gave her a cheesy pickup line," Julie adds. She bites back a smile. "It was kind of cute. She's been texting him all day."

"So, he's _not_ an ass?"

"Not that I've seen."

Alex hums. That's something, at least. Then again, he and Lainey were both raised by his parents, and they turned out pretty okay. Traumatized, maybe, but okay.

"Reed, Olivia, and Andi will probably be there, too," Willie reminds. He shoots Alex a knowing look.

A chill jolts through Alex. "Right," he says, nodding quickly at Willie. "Right, yeah, we should go see them."

"So, it's settled then?" Julie smiles at them. "We're going to Broadway."


End file.
